On the Rocks
by La Vik
Summary: Juice finds a good Samaritan with hidden ties to Henry Lin and a mission to gain intel on the Sons. As tension between SAMCRO and the Triads escalates, will Juice submit her to Jax's obsession with revenge if it means getting right with the club? Will SAMCRO recover when they realize that Lin may be the least of their problems? [AU S7, M-Rating for later chapters]
1. Chapter 1

"_The intelligence officer?"_

The young Chinese woman crossed her legs, her boot-clad feet landing with a thud on the table as she looked at her older brother questioningly. She'd assumed he'd called for one of their little brother-sister, 'we really need to catch up' lunches that she was sure he only planned to assuage his conscience at the fact that they had nothing truly in common. Instead, he'd invited her to his home - his beautiful, perfectly maintained bungalow in Burlingame, California, nestled into the ritzy peninsula area of the San Francisco Bay Area - and immediately launched into an outlandish tirade that revolved around business, bikers, and their uncle: Henry Lin.

"You want me to get information out of their _intelligence officer_?"

"Your feet, _meimei,_" the slightly older man chided, and she rolled her eyes at the fact that he insisted upon using the Chinese term of endearment for a baby sister. She had a name, after all. Denise. Her older brother, Charles, however, practically seemed to have forgotten this fact. Grousing, she removed her feet with a slight stomp and placed them on the ground, resting her elbows on her knees without any regard for the grimace that crossed her brother's face at her lack of feminine graces. "I don't know exactly what's happening, but you and I both know that Father's money is running out. He left us with hardly _anything_, and pretty soon, you won't get to go to your nice university, live in your nice little condo -"

"Then _what_?" she hissed.

"Uncle Henry's been keeping his finger on the pulse as far as those SAMCRO thugs - he knows they're up to something, but I'm not sure what," Charles said, crossing his thin arms over his chest. "I thought they were working together -"

"Not everyone who works together is one the same side," Charles snapped. "But there's been talk about trouble among them, and that _intelligence officer_ is the weak link. He's ditched their little town, and his bike's been impounded in Stockton."

Denise sneered slightly as she realized that there had been no intention of _asking_ her to be involved in whatever he was planning. Charles Kwan had already planned his sister's involvement in his schemes to the very last detail. She attended a private university - University of the Pacific - in the city, and had a small, barely lived-in condo unit in the area. Granted, at twenty-four, she felt a little old to still be in college, but she had admittedly given herself permission to explore other interests. She'd worked as a nursing assistant for a good few years to make just enough to fund her hobbies - martial arts and guns, mostly - until her father and grandfather had both died in a car crash. She had adjusted, sure, but Charles seemed to have grown twisted and bitter in the three years since, and now here they were.

"_Gege_," she said, using the Chinese term of endearment for her older brother, which she only used because she knew it appeased him. "You know I don't want -"

"This is the only way to get into Uncle Henry's good graces," he insisted, reaching over to the bottle of scotch on the table and pouring two glasses, handing one to his sister. "This is for us, _meimei_. Dad left us with hardly anything, and we can't live on ambition. If we pull this off, I will _never_ drag you into these things ever again."

Denise rolled her eyes in disbelief - she'd heard that one plenty of times before. She flinched slightly, however, when Charles reached out and grabbed both of her hands. He had never been one to be physically affectionate. She looked up at him, and he smiled slightly when he saw that he'd broken her stubbornness - at least, perhaps chipped it a little. "This is for _us_," he repeated, squeezing her hands again.

For a while, Denise seemed to mull over the idea, studying the expression on her brother's face as he awaited a response from her. She looked down at herself - her baggy jeans, boots, t-shirt, and knuckles wrapped because she had rushed from a quick session with a punching bag - then back at her brother with a disbelieving expression. "_Ge_, look at me," she insisted, wondering how, with such a lack of feminine wiles, she could ever do what he was asking. She had _never_ been the ideal daughter or granddaughter, and she was hardly in a position to start. Charles, however, seemed to be of a different opinion.

"You can always change_ you_," he said simply, raising his eyebrows in an expression that seemed to suggest Denise had overlooked something so very obvious. "We'll practically deliver him right to you. Right into your lap. You just play innocent. You look the innocent flower -"

"But be the serpent under it," she finished, more than familiar with the quote from Hamlet that Charles always used on her when he got her involved in his mad ideas. "Understood."

Charles grinned, raising his glass and nodding for Denise to follow suit, clinking his glass against hers. The pair of siblings took a drink, and Charles immediately then stood to pluck a stack of papers off of the shelf, holding them out to his sister.

Denise thumbed through and frowned slightly - these were the records of one _Juan Carlos Ortiz_, or Juice as he was called, and all of his dealings with the law and local hospitals in recent years.

"Learn them and burn them, _meimei_," Charles instructed. Denise sighed heavily. There was no refusing this now. She forced a tight-lipped smile and tucked the thick stack of papers under her arm, leaving her brother's house.

Charles, however, felt a slight pang of guilt - because this wasn't for the two of them. If Denise _knew_ the truth, that she didn't need to do any of this for her security or her future, that she simply needed to wait until the time was right, she would have never helped him. He needed to keep her dependent upon him and loyal to him, because this was the only way _he_ would ever be able to survive. He sneered slightly at his own thoughts and took one last deep swig from his Scotch.

If he could just win favor from Uncle Henry, even if he had to use his sister to do it, his future would be set.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Hello and welcome to my new story! This one is definitely a relatively young one in my mind, and diverges from the storyline of the seventh and final season of Sons of Anarchy. But, since I first started watching, Juice was admittedly one of my favorite characters._

_And, for those who picked up on it, yes. Denise and Charles are related to Henry Lin of the Lin Triad, hence their Bay Area roots - I'm a Bay Area native myself, so being able to work some of that in is a big plus for me in this story. For any Game of Thrones fans, I imagine them as having a slightly less creepy version of the early Dany/Viserys dynamic._

_In any case, I'm glad you've stumbled across this. It's a new genre for me, definitely, but I hope you'll stick with me! Most of my updates will be relatively raw and un-beta'd because I work full time. But I do try my best to catch my mistakes!_

_Anyway, until next update, which I hope will be soon - cheers!_


	2. Chapter 2

Juice knew he would have been better off if he had just left Stockton too - left his bike in the impound lot and just moved the hell on. He'd left everything else after all, hadn't he? But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Every man had his limits, he decided, and this was it. He'd been relegated to being a bum on the streets of Stockton with one duffel bag of belongings, and cash in his wallet that he could hardly spend because a bum with hundred dollar bills practically called the police on himself around here.

He'd had it alright, shacked up at Wendy's place. He might even have been safe there for a while. It was too hot there now. There wasn't much of anything left to do, even if he'd wanted to stay in Charming.

Food had been a problem. Water had been a problem. Juice had already come to feel pretty lightheaded when he made his way to a bus stop and decided to wait. He'd take any bus that showed up, as long as it accepted that he was about sixty cents short of his fare and got him to a different place besides the overpass he'd slept under last night. He stepped out into the bike lane, however, with his forearm held up against his forehead to block the glare from the sun, and in that moment, and large SUV went practically flying by, knocking him off of his feet. He let out a noise when he felt his head hit the pavement - enough to stun him, but not to knock him out.

"_Fuck!_"

"Oh my God…"

Juice forced his eyes open in time to hear footsteps, and a female voice coming closer. She was young - tiny, Asian, practically a toothpick - and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a flowery crop top under a beige pleather jacket. _Pleather_. Juice was in no position to be picky about her choice of clothing, however, seeing as she was the only one among the handful of people around who had crouched down to help him. She grabbed his hand, pulling him up gently as he touched the back of his own head and realized he was bleeding.

"Oh my God," she repeated. "I'm gonna call an ambu-"

"_No!_" Juice interrupted, causing the girl to flinch. He groaned slightly, his forehead wrinkled in pain. "No, I don't want an ambulance, I'm fine."

"Well - can I take you somewhere?"

"_No_."

"I live close by, at least wash that off - sit and put an ice pack on it," the girl insisted. Juice felt strangely about someone showing him kindness, and he blinked at her with a slight sneer on his face, causing her to lean away slightly. She had no reason to help him, no benefit to be had, and because of that, he had no reason to trust her. She seemed genuine, however, and his head did indeed hurt like a bitch. Unsure of what exactly possessed him to do so, he followed the girl to her car and got in, leaning forward and holding his hand onto the sparsely bleeding cut on his head. The blood was probably only from a scratch, but he could feel the bump practically forming under his hand.

He realized that the girl lived in _Brookside_, one of the few parts of Stockton that a person could at say was somewhat nice without feeling like they needed to go to confession for telling such a plain-faced lie. She led him into one of the small, townhouse like structures and hurriedly yanked a first aid kit out of her kitchen. Juice snatched it from her hands and, however messily, cleaned himself up. The girl nodded for him to take a seat on the couch before handing him a blanket.

Juice took the object from her hands, but as it rolled open, he realized that the purple fuzzy material had _sleeves_. "This is a Snuggie," he pointed out in mild confusion. The girl emerged from the kitchen with an ice pack and an expression that screamed, '_so what?_'. Juice cleared his throat and pulled it over him. In this new autumn weather, it was honestly the warmest he'd been. "I mean, thank you. I'm J-"

He paused. Was he really going to still _call himself_ Juice? He almost felt like he had no right to use the nickname anymore, and in any case, it was better to bury his tracks. He cleared his throat, shaking his head gently. "Juan. My name's Juan."

"Denise," the girl replied - Juice was fairly sure he caught a smile on her face, but couldn't be sure as she turned on her heel and left the room yet again, this time returning with an unopened container of Advil. "I - I'm only here during the week for school, so I have a lot of unused stuff," she shrugged, noting his gaze on the still-sealed bottle of medicine. "But you're gonna need that pretty soon."

"Where are you from, then?" Juice asked, partially out of caution about the girl whose house he had just waltzed into. She'd brought up that she wasn't always here - so where did she go off to? The suspicion felt misplaced, but a part of him refused to believe there was such a thing as too careful.

"Burlingame," she said, starting to mill about the room and pick up a few books scattered on the dining table, the coffee table, and kitchen counter. "You look like - let me guess. San Jose?"

"Queens," he corrected. He couldn't say he was from Charming, after all. Denise paused and looked at him with a surprised expression, nodding as though she was actually impressed by the answer.

"Well, you're pretty far from home," she pointed out. Juice gave a look somewhat between a sneer and a smile. "Look," she sighed, looking slightly disappointed as she stood with her books in her arms, approaching so that she was on the other side of the coffee table from Juice. "I'm sure you've got places to be and all, but you hit your head pretty hard back there."

"No. I mean, yeah," Juice stammered, shaking his head and realizing that he did feel somewhat disoriented at this point. "I mean, no, I have no place to be. Yes, I hit my head pretty hard."

"Well, if you have nowhere else to go, then you could hand around here while I'm in class," she suggested. He looked at her now with a look of confusion and inexplicable '_what the hell?_'.

"You are either really dumb, or have _no_ valuables - I could rob you blind," he groaned through his throbbing headache, still somehow managing to inject the statement with a matter-of-fact tone. Denise, however, just chuckled in response.

"Well, thanks for the heads up. You're probably the most considerate burglar in Stockton," she smirked. "The most valuable thing in here is that TV I got on Black Friday, if you'd like to try and steal it on foot. Maybe you can figure out to hook up all of that stuff," she chuckled, gesturing vaguely to the old video game consoles littering the ground in front of the very large television screen - they were old enough to be thrift store old, even practically vintage. Denise laughed again, shaking her head and moving towards the door. "Make yourself at home, but - don't go anywhere because I'm not leaving you a key. We're not _that_ close," she joked.

Juice felt like he'd just been thrown into an alternate universe - since when could a person be so _nice_, in a place like Stockton?

Denise, however, dropped the bright smile the instant she stepped foot out of the door and started heading back to her car, pulling out her cellphone and sending him a simple, coded text message. _Picked up the groceries._

The nice girl on the street act, of course, had been a lie. Charles had been driving the SUV that had knocked Juice over - Denise hadn't expected Juice to fall as _hard_ as he did, but there seemed to be no harm done anyway, and the act probably worked better when it hurt worse anyway. One thing that was not a lie, however, was that she had to go to class. Physics - which she didn't know why she was taking. Perhaps, she sometimes mused in her classes, she was lost in more ways than one, but being a directionless college student was certainly a way to kill time. She actually wondered why she hadn't done it sooner.

When she returned home, however, she opened the door to see that her houseguest was no longer on the couch. But the door had been locked - he hadn't left. "Juan?" she called out, using the name he'd introduced himself with. His real name. Still no answer. "_Juan_?" she repeated, moving elsewhere in the house. It was then that she saw the bathroom door open, and Juice sitting on the ground against the wall opposite the toilet, a small amount of vomit on the front of his shirt. Denise groaned slightly, but hurried over and crouched in front of him again. He groaned quietly, and she gave a sigh of relief that he wasn't dead.

Admittedly grossed out a bit by the smell despite having worked a short while as a nurse aide, Denise pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the nearby bathtub before tilting his head up, eliciting another disoriented groan. Denise realized he had probably been dehydrated after being out on the streets, and then had subsequently puked his brains out because of his concussion. She ran to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge, then returned to bathroom and practically pinched Juice's face to position his mouth open.

"What are you doing?" he slurred. Denise rolled her eyes.

"C'mon. It's Gatorade. Down the hatch," she said, attempting to continue the bright-eyed girl facade from earlier. Thankfully, he did manage to swallow a mouthful of the Gatorade, then reach out and take the bottle for himself. Good thing, Denise noted, because she certainly hadn't signed on to be a babysitter or a caregiver.

She still had to help him back on his feet to get back to her couch, and she sat on the arm of the couch next to him while he drank the Gatorade and seemed to get his wits about him again, at least slightly.

"So," Denise said slowly after a good while of silence as Juice simply stared forward into space. "Are you… homeless or something?" she asked, as though she didn't know anything about him. He turned to her with a slight glare, with annoyance, actually.

"Yeah. Right now, I am," he snapped. "Why? You never seen a homeless vet before?"

There was a tense silence, and Denise looked away as well - partially to hide the fact that she honestly couldn't feign hurt feelings as well as she'd have liked, partially because she couldn't parse out if the response contained truth or not. "Well," she said, clearing her throat. "You could crash here. I didn't buy a couch that folds out into a sofa bed just to have _nobody_ sleeping on it."

"I don't have money to pay you -"

"But you have money to pay a motel or something? Or are you going back to that bus stop I found you at?" Denise asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically. "Look, I made a New Year's Resolution to do a good deed for somebody this year - like, something_ really _good. It's already fall, and I haven't done it. I've never failed on a New Year's Resolution in my _life_," she explained emphatically - Juice looked simultaneously enthralled and puzzled by her rant. "So, really, you're kind of helping _me_ out," Denise concluded brightly.

At first, Juice had nothing to say in response to the girl - what kind of world did she come from that she somehow got to the age that she was and still was so bright-eyed and fucking-bushy-tailed about everything? But he needed a place to stay, and she was the only one who was presenting that to him right now. Sure, he was a danger to her. Sure, people wanted him dead. But - he'd lost enough thinking about _other people_ at this point, hadn't he? He nodded, more to himself than anything else, before looking up at Denise looking almost defeated. "Alright," he shrugged. "I'll crash here."


	3. Chapter 3

Juice realized at some point during the night that he _stank_ - whether it was from having been stuck under an overpass for days, or from having thrown up all over himself, he certainly smelled homeless at this point. Denise had said to make himself at home, hadn't she?

So, he'd helped himself to a shower, though he'd first come across the shirt she'd peeled off of him when she'd found him in the bathroom. He decided to do the kind thing and throw it in the trash, since he had desire to clean it, and he wasn't about to make her a _maid_ too. Once he was in the shower and the small needles of hot water - with excellent water pressure, he couldn't help but notice - cascaded over his skin, which itself was more sun and windburnt from living the way he'd been forced to, he groaned slightly and leaned his forehead against the cold tile.

He was _fucked_, he realized. How long could he just stay in some girl's house like this? Eventually, she'd put two and two together that she was harboring someone who was on the streets for a reason, and he'd be back where he started. He ran his fingers through his hair, which now grown to nearly a finger-length all over his head. He'd covered up his head tattoos and hidden his kutte in his duffel to try and blend in - now, his bike was in an impound lot, and he was without a way of even getting it club had once been everything to him. Now, he was shedding every vestige, slowly losing that part of his identity because he needed to in order to _live_.

After what was likely to have been about forty-five minutes in the shower, he finally shut off the water and grabbed one of the towels from the bar, wrapping it around his waist before venturing out to the living room, where the lights were still off. Before he get back to the sofa bed, however, he felt something bump into him from behind and fall to the ground with a small thud.

"_Shit!_" Denise's voice yelped audibly. Juice realized first that he was completely in the buff, and second that he hadn't even heard her coming. "Juan?" she continued, clearly barely awake as she got to her feet and hit the lightswitch. "I - I forgot you were here."

"You forgot," Juice repeated incredulously, his eyes wide - he looked away out of respect, however, when he realized that his gracious host was clad only in an off-shoulder cotton shirt and boyshort underwear. He heard her gasp a little, and he moved his glance upwards with a slight groan. He was going to get kicked out now, he could tell. "You _forgot_ that you invited a stranger to come live in your living room? How do you live in this city without getting kidnapped? Do you hop into random vans when they offer you candy too?" he said in exasperation, still looking away - Denise, in turn, was looking at the floor with one hand positioned over her brow like a visor to obstruct the view of… _anything_. She kept her other arm crossed over her chest and began stammering nervously.

"I'm doing a good deed. _I'm doing a good deed_," she seemed to chant to herself a few times, still refusing to look up, or to acknowledge anything Juice had just said, until finally she let out a frustrated groan and clenched her eyes shut, crossing both arms over herself now. "Look, could you just put some pants on?!"

The request caught Juice by surprise - did it really bother her _that_ much? He cleared his throat and scrambled over to his duffel bag, pulling open the zipper and yanking out the pair of jeans sitting on the top of his few belongings. As he pulled, however, something else tumbled out of the bag as well and clattered to the floor. Recognizing the sound, Denise's eyes flew open and she found herself staring at a recognizable Beretta handgun - both she and Juice froze momentarily in surprise, until he moved first, lurching forward and picking up the gun to point at her. Denise jumped backwards slightly and noticed that at this point, his hand was shaking. Both hands - he very well could have let go of the towel he was holding around his waist.

For Juice, however, this seemed _dire_ - she knew he was staying in her living room, packing heat. She didn't know who he was. Women scared easy, and he knew she could very well call the cops on him now, whether he did anything to her or not. The jig was up. It _had_ to be.

"I'm not gonna say anything. I'm not gonna ask anything," she said quickly, holding up her hands in front of her chest. "Juan - _Juan, _put the gun down. If you were gonna hurt me, you had all night to do it," she reasoned. Once he was able to process her words, his aim lowered slightly, his arm no longer locked, but he didn't put the gun down completely. Denise took a deep breath. "You had your chance to take what you wanted. You had your chance to hurt me. You _didn't_," she said, taking a few slow steps forward.

Juice couldn't put his finger on what kind of person this girl was - she was doe-eyed and trusting, she was a sitting duck for anyone who wanted to do anything to her for it. But at the same time, she was ballsy. She was looking down the barrel of a Beretta and walking _closer, _as if she didn't know that she was moving closer to something that could blow her brains out. Finally, he lowered his gun, placing it down on top of his bag but keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't do anything dumb. He didn't _want_ to have to hurt her.

"You - you should eat," Denise suggested sheepishly as she put her hands down to her sides. "You puked up _everything_ last night. An empty stomach can really screw up your mood -"

"I just pulled a gun on you, and you're just chalking it up to me being _hungry_?"

"I think the word they use for it nowadays is _hangry_."

There was a brief pause, and Juice felt a twitch in his face that he initially felt compelled to resist - but instead, he smiled, and he let out a grudging laugh at her reply. She seemed to slump slightly in relief, and she mumbled something about going into the kitchen.

Once there was an entire wall between herself and Juice, Denise finally exhaled deeply. The sweet and innocent act was more tiring than she'd thought. Running into him had admittedly been an accident, but the subsequent slapstick - the shock at seeing a naked man in her house, the cluelessness while seeing a gun fall out of his bag - had been her lying through her teeth.

However, it was strangely easier this time to put the act back on when she finished throwing together breakfast - coffee and grilled cheese, nothing fancy, and putting it down on the coffee table in front of Juice, who apparently had been more hungry than he'd suggested earlier. He'd put on a clean-ish pair of jeans and an undershirt, which quickly became littered with crumbs as he started practically shoveling the food into his mouth, not noticing Denise wander off back to her room until she returned dressed in jeans and a flowy white shirt, hopping back into the living as she struggled to tug a pair of boots on over her jeans.

"I'm going to the store for some stuff," she explained, adjusting her pant leg into the shoe before looking up at Juice, who had polished off the entire plate of grilled cheese sandwiches. "Do you - uh, need anything?" she asked. There was a pause, a trepidation as though he didn't trust her leaving. Denise paused and shrugged calmly. "I mean, if it's personal stuff, you could just come, I guess."

She moved over to the entertainment center that the TV was perched on and swiped up her car keys, giving them a slight wave. "I'll drive."

It seemed risky - he had just had a gun in her face, and all of a sudden, she wanted him to get in a car with her. For all he knew, she could be driving him to the nearest police station for that stunt. But she didn't _seem_ to be that kind of person, and Juice was reasonably sure that he could outrun her if push came to shove. He was out of clothes, and pretty much everything else. He was a little stir crazy from being stuck in this girl's living room. All of this combined seemed to be reason enough to follow her out the door.

He learned quickly that this sweet, naive young woman was in fact, not a perfect human being the instant she got behind the wheel - but, since he'd learned a bit of his way around Stockton within the past few days, he knew at least she wasn't heading anywhere near the police station. Instead, she made jerky, whiplash-inducing record time to the nearest Target.

"I just ate," Juice protested feebly as they both stepped out of the car and walked across the parking lot - he checked over his shoulder constantly and nearly ran into Denise as she stopped to pull a cart from the rack outside.

He felt strange, grabbing what he needed and putting it into this girl's shopping cart, but he figured on some level that no one else would likely see anything strange. They'd just assume they were a couple, and there was nothing embarrassing about anyone making that assumption. She was a pretty girl, so looking like _her_ boyfriend was not certainly the worst situation he'd been forced into for survival's sake.

When it came to waiting in line, however, and seeing her digging into her purse for her wallet, he felt a pang of discomfort. He had limits. With a slight groan, he reached into his pants - not his pocket, but _into_ his pants, eliciting a shocked glance from Denise, who jumped backward from him.

'What the -"

"Relax, I just keep my wallet down there," he said, holding it up and giving it a slight wave before pulling out a hundred dollar bill and holding it out to her. She frowned slightly, her nose wrinkling in distaste before he shoved the money into her hand. He couldn't wave that stuff around out here, he knew - it wasn't Charming. People would actually _wonder_ where he had money from. "It didn't rub against my junk, alright?" he said with his forehead wrinkling. "Letting you pay for razors and boxers is just… strangely emasculating. Groceries are on me, okay?"

Denise turned away to hide the fact that she was snickering, and paid for the cart's contents without a hitch. When they got back to the car, Juice felt himself bristle again at the fact that they didn't go straight home - instead, she parked in front of a nearby hardware store, and he looked at her with a pointed frown.

"You don't need to come down if you don't want to. I just need to pick up something," Denise said, stepping out of the driver's side. Had she arranged a meetup? Had she set him up? Noticing the way his eyes flitted around the car, Denise reached out and gave her car keys a slight toss so that they landed with a quiet jingle into his lap. "If anything seems fishy, you can drive off. I'll walk home. Just please don't stuff the keys down your pants because I have to touch them every day," she smirked before closing the car door and walking off.

She was too difficult to understand - she acted like Juice had somehow, in the span of a day, become her friend. Her roommate. He picked up the keys and looked at them, as though trying to figure out if they were fakes or something, but found nothing to indicate that she was pulling a fast one on him. Maybe, Juice realized, it was only this way because he was desperate to trust someone. Maybe he was being just as blind as he thought that she was - the thought milled through his head until the driver's side door opened again, and Denise poked her head back in, holding out a small envelope to him. He frowned again, taking it from her hand and opening to find a freshly cut key. His brow furrowed as he looked at Denise incredulously while she climbed back into the passenger's seat.

"I'm going home for the weekend after class tonight," she explained.

"But - what's this?"

"It's a key. You know, it opens doors and stuff?" she smirked, cocking her head to one side. "I told you - it's part of my good deed. I told you could stay, and I wouldn't be doing you any favors if I kept you cooped up in there. I don't want you running off and leaving my door unlocked, so we both win."

Juice couldn't wrap his head around why she was so obsessed with going through with this _good deed_ of hers - she seemed like a character out of some romantic comedy. That, he realized, or the victim of a Law and Order episode who ended up being murdered. But whatever the case, however strange she was, he _needed_ a break like this. He needed someone to believe it was worthwhile to cut him a little slack. He held the key up to the light and chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

"You're some kind of angel, aren't you, Dee?" he said with a lopsided grin. He realized it was a little presumptive to start calling her by a nickname so quickly, so he reneged, clearing his throat. "Denise. Sorry."

"You're good," she said with a slight laugh as she backed out of the parking space and started driving. She was glad that the tinted windows kept a little of daylight out of the car, so it wouldn't be so obvious that for the first time in one of their exchanges, redness had crept into her cheeks. that had been one thing she'd not been able to fake, even when he was standing naked in her living room with a gun pointed at her.

Catching her offguard one time was fine, she assured herself. She wouldn't let him get one over on her again.


	4. Chapter 4

Charles always felt a certain sense of unease whenever he was in _any_ of his uncle Henry's residences. Henry Lin enjoyed the ability to be constantly mobile, to have hideouts of sorts across the Bay Area as though he _owned_ the entire thing. His meeting place of choice today was his luxury condominium in the Twin Peaks district of San Francisco.

"Uncle," Charles said glancing at the door and waiting for it to open. Denise hadn't said anything about being late, so the fact that she still hadn't appeared immediately worried him. "_Meimei _is more than capable of this job."

"For your sake, she had better be," Henry said from his perch in an armchair across the table from his nephew. His tone, however, was not filled with fondness or warmth. It would never been something either Charles or Denise expected from him anyway. Henry and their father had only been _half_ brothers, after all. He took a puff from the fat cigar in his mouth and raised his eyebrows at his nephew. "The only service you've been capable of performing for me without failing is keeping that girl safe - I didn't ask for you to bring her into this," he sneered. "It's not a good idea to dangle her as bait in front of people we don't want too close to our business. She's a _girl_-"

"I'll be fine."

Denise appeared in the doorway, and Charles couldn't help but give a slight chuckle at the sight of his younger sister dressed so effeminately, which elicited a sneer on her part as she walked across the room to stand across the table from their uncle, who quickly stopped talking. "I talked him into staying, no problem. It's just going to take a while to get anything out of him - especially when I don't know what I'm trying to find out."

"Anything you can," Henry said simply, rising to his feet when he saw that his niece did not take a seat. She was _always_ this way, confrontational, nothing like a woman should have been. If her father and grandfather had permitted it, he wasn't quite as accepting. "I'm working with these SAMCRO _brutes_ out of necessity, but that doesn't mean I trust them."

"Well, this is _exhausting_," Denise said with a grimace. "This doe-eyed, damsel act is full of -"

But before she could specify what it was full of, Henry's palm collided with her cheek with a significant smacking sound - not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make an impression. Charles flinched, as though his initial reaction was to protect his sister but thought better of it.

"I'm sorry, uncle," Denise said, her jaw now slightly clenched.

"This _act_ might be your chance to remember what your place is," Henry said, crossing his arms over his chest without even the tiniest sign of remorse for having laid hands on his niece. She nodded wordlessly, and sat down next to her brother. Seemingly appeased, Henry nodded and started towards the front door. "Lock up before the two of you leave. I have an important business meeting in Oakland."

Denise didn't look up until she heard the door close behind Uncle Henry, and at this point, charles turned and placed his hands on his sister's shoulders.

"You know better than to talk that way in front of Uncle," he said, his brow furrowed as he saw the slight reddening of his sister's cheek. It would go away quickly enough. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said coldly. "I just want to get this _over_ with and get away from him, _gege_."

"You'll be free from all of this soon, _Mei_. I swear."

Perhaps, Charles knew, he wasn't a good enough person to simply keep his sister away from this altogether. He was no saint. He knew that he needed her much more than she needed him, for reasons she had not yet been deemed worthy of knowing. But he loved her. She was all he had, after all. The most hurtful wound of all of this, however, was that he saw more and more every day that she believed in him less and less.

* * *

><p><em>"If I were you, I'd take that gun, put it in my mouth, and pull the trigger..."<em>

_Chibs' words rang in his head, but in this dream - it had to be a dream - he was sitting in that diner, sitting across from himself, staring into his own eyes. There were no words exchanged, not even a sound made. But this doppelganger's arm moved, pointing a gun across the table with a surreal grin._

_"You want me to do it?"  
><em>

_"No..."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because I don't want to die yet," he said in a shaky voice. "I don't wanna die...:_

Juice woke with a start, sitting up from his place on Denise's sofa and nearly falling off, tangled in the blankets. He'd shut all of the blinds so that it was hard to tell that it was still daytime and he'd slept through most of his normal waking hours until he was startled by his own dream.

What the hell kind of pansy ass still had nightmares? He wondered. Sitting up, he buried his head in his hands. It was strange to admit that he sort of wanted Denise to come back already. As unusual as she was, as little as he found himself able to relate to her in any way, her strangeness was a distraction. She kept him from being consumed by his own thoughts, and now with her away, they were settling in again, slow and suffocating like he was trapped in a room in a burning house, watching smoke slow creep in under the doors.

Juice knew he shouldn't have been where he was. He knew that he was a man with sins to atone for - with debts to be paid. But, strangest of all, he felt a strange sense of hope even now that he would find something that could simply erase all of this _shit_ he had done, give him back his family. He had never had much - he simply wanted what little he once had back.

"I'll be back," he muttered to himself, like muttering a promise into his own hands like they were something he could hold onto. He repeated it a few times, but it never felt any more convincing. Frustrated at his inability to convince even himself, he stood, pacing across the living room until his eyes rested on a small cabinet in the dining area.

Would it hurt, he wondered, if he knew a little bit more about the woman who had taken him in? It was for his own security, he convinced himself. He needed to watch his own back because no one else would. He made his way over and crouched in front of the lower-level drawers, pulling them open carefully. No locks, even. He wondered what it was like to be a person like Denise, a person with nothing to hide.

She certainly hadn't been lying when she said that she didn't keep much here. The drawer's only contents were a few DVD's and an album. Pulling out the album, Juice sat on the floor and flipped to the first page, a picture of a newborn in a hospital crib with her name scrawled onto a small card: _Denise Kwan_.

With a glance at the date on the card, juice immediately had a full name and a date of birth on the girl - more than he'd had moments ago. He flipped the page and saw a photo of her as a toddler in which she was accompanied by three others: a young boy who looked barely a few years older than her, and two other men. Doodled in neat cursive at the bottom was the caption, Denise and Charles with Pa and Grandpapa. The next page, a photo of her in a bright colored tutu. A picture of her on a stage dressed in a toga in front of a banner that heralded her school production of Julius Caesar. Her in a group of people dressed in scrubs, posing together in front of what looked like a potluck dinner.

Then - Juice froze when the next page held a collection of small newspaper clippings, obituaries of her father and grandfather. He suddenly felt much less justified, as though the invasion he had committed of her privacy in her home was now even more dire because of how much he knew. She had been a dancer, a theater geek… she had worked in a hospital. She had a brother, and had recently lost her father and grandfather. No mother. He closed the album, shoving it back into the drawer and slamming the cabinet shut. He backed away, practically leaping to his feet and covering his face with his hands.

"Dammit," he said, hi jaw clenched so fervently that the tendons in his neck stiffened almost painfully. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be fucking with your life like this. I shouldn't be _in_ your life - you don't need my shit," he stammered, pacing and talking as though he was actually speaking to someone. "Denise… God, dammit. It's only for now. I just need time and I'll be out of your way. I won't wreck anything… dammit…"

Dammit, he repeated, because he knew he couldn't promise that.


	5. Chapter 5

Having spent the night in San Francisco in one of her uncle's guest rooms, Denise didn't make her way back to Stockton until Sunday afternoon. She felt strangely exhausted, not because she had done any work during her time there, but because she simply found dealing with her family's _business_ to be exhausting.

Unlocking and opening her door, her brow furrowed slightly when she realized that her home smelled different. "Juan?" she asked unsurely - it still seemed so strange to call him that, despite the fact that she knew his file back to front; she knew what he preferred being called. "Are you still here?"

And like clockwork, he appeared around the corner from the kitchen, hands covered in oven mitts and carrying a steaming dish.

"It's uh - pasta," he explained, holding it out towards Denise before putting it down on the table. She chuckled slightly as she finished heading inside, shutting the door behind her. She walked over and peered into the dish. Admittedly, it looked good - not microwaved. She hadn't read anything in his file to indicate that he was actually a better cook than her too. She chuckled slightly to herself, shaking her head.

"Thanks," she said, looking down at the food, admittedly impressed that he'd somehow managed to make something that resembled food out of whatever she had laying around. Juice, however, had honestly thought to do it out of guilt for having gone through her things. It hadn't _stopped_ at the photo album. He'd looked through her kitchen, her bathroom cabinets, everything except for her bedroom, which she'd kept locked. He didn't realize that everything he'd seen, he'd been _meant_ to see to create a particular idea of who Denise was.

Denise caught sight of his eyes flitting around the room and surmised just as much - that he was worried about her noticing things out of place where he'd gone through them. He was walking straight into the trail of breadcrumbs Denise had been forced to lay. He was _that_ desperate to believe something, she realized.

From outside the window, there was the sound of the revving of an engine - Juice wheeled around and practically seemed to try and hide from the sound. His sudden movement had almost looked like a tackling motion, so out of reflex, Denise jumped out of the way with a slight gasp. The pair then glanced at each other with an almost electric sense of discomfort until Denise decided to speak up.

"You're - really jumpy," she observed carefully. He looked off with a frown, walking away and sitting back down on the couch with a tiredness and weariness. _Don't do that_, Denise mentally pleaded as she saw him. She wasn't by nature a very sympathetic person, but when she saw him that way, it was certainly a test. She could crack a little, couldn't she? Wasn't it part of her front anyway?

Before mentally answering her own query, she moved across the space and sat down on the sofa next to him - not directly, but with enough space to fit another person about her size between them. She mirrored his posture, resting her elbows on her knees.

"You don't trust me, do you?" she asked plainly - not with accusation, not with anger, but so matter-of-fact that it seemed out of place in the conversation. Juice looked at her with his forehead wrinkled, and she gave a small laugh - precisely what she'd expected. "I can tell," she shrugged. "You think I'm either dumb or a liar. You think that no person can possibly be enough of an _idiot_ to do this. But you know, I never said I was particularly bright."

"Why are you doing this, then?"

"Because... I know how it feels to not have anybody," she said. Feeling a strange sense of regret in her gut at having said it, having _meant_ it, she looked away.

"You have a br-" Juice started, though he cut himself off before he revealed that he knew more about her family than she'd mentioned. "I mean, you go home to see somebody, don't you? What are you talking about?"

"My brother?" Denise asked, now the one bearing the befuddled expression. "He - he needs _me_. Ever since our dad died, it's like he just refuses to let go of me. But at the end of the day he doesn't even know _anything _about me."

She paused, realizing she'd just done something against the ground rules she'd set for herself. She'd gotten personal. She'd told a _truth_ without need. She pressed the heels over her hands to her face and shook her head.

"So is that where this… happy-go-lucky, Pollyanna shit comes in?" Juice asked, leaning back against the sofa cushions, looking at the young woman in front of him with somewhat gentler scrutiny. "Everything just sucks balls so you don't think about all of the bullshit?"

"Something like that. Maybe a few less_ shits_ in there," she said with a lopsided grin, still leaning forward but turning her head to look back at him. Denise was relieved to see that he seemed to be buying it; even his body language said that she seemed to have broken down a wall and gotten one step closer to finishing this job. "It's just easier this way," she shrugged. "Being sad is tiring. Hating people is tiring. Hating the world is tiring. So… why bother?" she asked. With a glance at Juice, she realized that he actually seemed to be thinking about what she said, so much so that Denise felt bad for not actually meaning it. She _didn't_ live that way. She _was_ angry. She _did_ hate the world. So… why was every word she said somehow so believeable?

"You really are some kind of angel," he chuckled, shaking his head. Denise rolled her eyes a little and reached onto the table for the remote, turning on the television set to find that it automatically flipped to the right setting - and to Animal Planet. Her mouth contorted into a concealed grin as she sat up and turned her head to look at Juice questioningly about his choice of television programming.

"They had that special about finding the body of a mermaid," he shrugged, gesturing towards the TV. "I thought it was pretty compelling."

"You know mermaids are fake, right?"

"You believe a random homeless guy you pick up in Stockton isn't going to rob you blind and murder you in your sleep, but you don't believe in mermaids?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and unknowingly eliciting the first _genuine_ laughter from Denise. Now slightly doubled over with her long dark hair falling over her face, Juice finally came to two realizations: first, that he genuinely _did_ buy some of that special about mermaids, and second, that being around someone who still tried to believe in _good_ things was refreshing. For the first time in longer than he cared to keep track of, being around someone actually felt _good_.

The realization, however, was punctuated by the phone in her back pocket going off. She squirmed a little to get it, and let out a small groan when she read what Juice presumed was a text message.

"I forgot, some of the people I take classes with wanted to hold this Sunday study group here because the apartment they usually hold it at is getting fumigated," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly - this, it turned out, was actually a truth. She had a small group of people at her university that she almost considered friends by some stretch of the imagination, and they did indeed have study groups on Sundays. "But I can tell them to just meet up at a Starbucks or something -"

"Nah. _Nah,_," Juice said, shaking his head and not letting on that he had a fair amount of hesitation about other people seeing him, knowing that he was _there_. "Don't blow off plans on my account. I can scram for a while -"

"No! No, it's fine - they're not the most interesting people around, but they won't mind you being around. Besides," Denise shrugged. "You - you don't really want to go out there, do you? You haven't really left all weekend."

Touche.

The group that arrived about an hour later consisted of four girls about Denise's age and a male - the scrawny, hipster sort with non-functional glasses and a plaid shirt; he introduced himself as Harvey. The three girls, if Juice hadn't lost track, were named Lori, Melissa, and Jessy. Juice felt strange around them - mostly because he'd never been one of them, even when he'd been their age about six years ago. Even _Denise_ seemed strangely out of place with them, even if they all seemed just as nice, even if not as _deep_ as Denise had proven herself to be.

"Guys," Denise said awkwardly as they all settled around the coffee table. "This is - this is Juan. He's a friend, he's staying with me for a while."

"_Juan_," Melissa repeated, glancing at Denise with a suggestive grin that made it clear what she was assuming. "A friend? Is he your new -"

"I'm not _with_ him," Denise interrupted with a nervous laugh, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the fact that people who knew the real her were so close, in such a precarious position that could very well jeopardize everything. "I mean, you know, like, physically, I'm _with_ him in this apartment. I mean - not like _that_," she stammered purposefully. Even knowing that she wasn't the type, the group seemed to believe that she had something to be nervous about.

"You look… unusually cute today, Denise," Harvey pointed out with a seedy grin that rendered Juice unable to resist making a disgusted expression. Where did sleazes like him get off, making passes at girls as innocent as Denise? A strange sense of protectiveness settled in Juice's gut, but he didn't speak up about it.

He glanced over and realized that their study group was struggling with physics, and he leaned over, unable to hold back from grabbing the pen from Denise's hand and explaining the concept of tensile strength that they seemed to be fumbling over. Harvey seemed to roll his eyes, but the girls - Denise included - seemed to be hanging on his words. Juice smirked, admittedly haughty upon receiving the attention, through the later half of his explanation.

"So, it's that simple," he said at the end of his explanation, which he had admittedly drawn out a little to keep the admiring glances on himself - he'd needed that. Badly. Melissa chuckled and glanced over at Denise, elbowing her gently.

"He's cute _and _smart," she grinned broadly. "I might have to steal this one from you -"

"Oh, God, Melissa! The first time Denise ever so much as shows up with a guy and you're gonna steal him?" Dani said. "Cut the girl some slack."

Now, Denise turned genuinely red yet again and stayed that way until they had left. Cleaning up the papers that had ended up littered on the coffee table, Denise let out a deep breath and looked at Juice with raised eyebrows when he moved over to help her.

"This is your fault. _You_ asked for that, hanging around them in those," she said, gesturing at his attire, consisting of a wife beater and admittedly snug jeans. "I mean, you that you're - you're -"

"I'm what?" he asked with a smirk.

"In ridiculously good shape, you're in _ridiculously good shape_," she snapped, walking off with the stack of papers, visibly flustered. Juice seemed admittedly satisfied with himself with this reaction from her, so he sat comfortably on the sofa and propped his feet up on the table when she walked off. He had turned on the television and resumed watching Animal Planet when Denise returned, changed into her home clothes with more books tucked under her arm.

"I still have a couple other classes to study for," she explained, holding up one of her books with one hand. "I… usually do it on the couch."

"What?"

"_Study!_" she yelped, clearing her throat. "Not, you know, _do it. _I usually study on the couch. Is that okay?"

"You're asking me if it's okay for you to study on your own couch, in your own house?"

"I'm trying to be a good host!" she argued.

"Oh, right," Juice smirked. "That whole good deed thing that you do, right?"

"Laugh if you want," Denise huffed, walking over and standing in front of the sofa with her books clutched in front of her. "_I_ take that kind of thing seriously."

"Okay, okay. Just park it here," Juice replied, patting the sofa next to him. He smiled a little when she sat a little closer than before, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her book on her knees.

It was honestly a little endearing that she muttered the words she read to herself and switched back and forth between four or five different highlighters, unfazed by his channel surfing and occasional barks of laughter at whatever he was watching. Eventually, however, her mumbling and the sound of highlighters dragging across the page ceased somewhere in the middle of the episode of 'Naked and Afraid' that Juice had landed on. "Hey, Dee. Look at this," he said, nudging her with his arm. "Dee -"

He turned and saw that she had fallen asleep with her face pressed against her book. He gave her another nudge, but she didn't stir. Juice felt, yet again, a strange sense of guilt for the fact that he was hiding so much from her, and here she was, trusting him enough to fall asleep around him. With a grave expression on his face, he picked up her books and placed them down on the coffee table before scooping her up into his arms.

It was unsurprising that she was incredibly light, but what did come unexpectedly was that such a tiny body was so _warm_. Juice carried her into her room, which now was left unlocked and ajar enough that he could nudge it open with his shoulder. Attached to the first instance of prolonged contact he'd had in a while, he was almost reluctant to put her down in her bed - which was covered with a comforter with prints of owls on it. "Cute," he chuckled to himself as he finally lowered her onto the comforter. On contact, she immediately rolled onto her side and gave a small groan.

Juice crossed his arms over himself, practically holding his breath as for a few brief moments, he simply _looked _at her. "Dammit," he muttered, shaking his head. "Please, don't be so good to me. Just stop," he muttered. He sighed and back away towards the door, glancing around at the photos and things around the room, artifacts of the life he'd interrupted. "I'm not your good deed," he said, backing out of the room completely and shutting the door quietly behind him before heading back to the couch.


	6. Chapter 6

Denise gave a slight groan, stretching and cover her eyes with her forearm to block out the tiny string of sunlight peering through her blinds. She sat up tiredly, and looked around realizing she didn't remember getting up to _go_ to bed, which meant that unless she had recently taken up sleepwalking, Juice had helped her get there. Barely awake and slightly confused, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and went out to the living room, where Juice was already awake, watching TV yet again. She walked over wordlessly and looked down at the papers on the coffee table in front of him - it looked like the assignment she'd started on before falling asleep the previous night, except there was _more_ of it, handwritten in her own writing. She picked it up and stared incredulously.

"It's a gift," Juice piped in, not turning to face her and keeping his eyes on the TV calmly. "you have really easy handwriting to copy. Really simple. Not, you know, girly or anything."

"Thanks…" Denise said hesitantly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand and deciding better than to analyze whether or not it was a compliment to say she didn't have girly handwriting. She put the papers down and wandered over to the kitchen to make herself a mug of instant coffee before trying to make conversation any further. "There's a - a _thing_ tonight," she spoke up suddenly, remembering an invitation Melissa had mentioned on her way out the previous night. "Do you want to - I mean… never mind."

"Thing?" Juice asked, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Like another study group?"

"No, like a… _thing_," Denise spoke up sheepishly. "Melissa and Harvey are throwing this end of midterms party at a bar, and I thought maybe you'd want a change of scenery or something. You've been in here for a… a while."

Juice's gut reaction was to refuse - but no one who had any interest him would be showing up at some trendy, collegey bar. He really had no reason to be there himself, save for Denise's invite. And she was right - he did the best he could, trapped in the same four walls, but he was running out of things to do. No one would care to look for him in a rich, college-kid neighborhood, would they? But if they did… then he would be leading them straight to Denise, and leading Denise straight to trouble. Did he want a little freedom that badly?

Yes. He _needed_ a little freedom that badly.

"You know what? Yeah. Let's do it," he said, gesturing widely with his arms. "Let's go to the thing."

Juice couldn't help but think that the smile that crossed Denise's face, even if only for a brief moment, was well worth the risk, though why it was worth it, he wasn't quite able to pinpoint. She went off to class that morning, and he did the usual - trying to make something out of nothing in her pantry and watching Animal Planet and National Geographic specials until afternoon, where he meandered into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, crossing his arms. He'd been good enough about shaving, but he hadn't let his hair get this long since…

Prison. Denise didn't even know she was harboring an ex-con in her townhouse. Juice banished the thought from his head and began rifling through the cabinets for whatever he could find. He came across a somewhat promising tub of hairgel. _Pink_ hairgel. He opened the tub and gave it a sniff, surprised to find that it didn't smell nearly as girly as he'd expected. Shrugging to himself, he began running his fingertips through his hair.

He looked as though he actually belonged here with someone like Denise, he said with a lopsided grin, though he jumped in surprise when, speak of the Devil, the young woman's head peered suddenly in the doorway.

"You used my gel," she said with a Cheshire Cat grin, chuckling openly. Juice turned around and gestured with his arms.

"Look okay?"

"Yeah -" Denise replied, though she covered her mouth with widened eyes when her voice cracked into a slight squeak. All part of the act, she reminded herself. All part of the act. After all, how was any girl supposed to respond seeing him like that? He cleaned up nicely, admittedly. He was wearing a tight, long-sleeved white shirt that she'd seen him buy from Target when they'd gone, and a pair of black jeans, and Denise, despite all of her best efforts, was still only human. She cleared her throat and looked down at the floor, scratching the back of her neck - a true nervous tic of hers.

"I mean, you look fine," she nodded, unable to look up knowing that he was doing his best to cover up the fact that he was snickering at her reaction. She reached into her back pocket and held the car keys out towards him. "I still need to get ready, do you wanna go start the car?" she asked, more than anything wanting to get him out of the house so she didn't need to _look_ at him for fear of losing her voice again. Juice, however, stopped chuckling and looked at her questioningly.

"You mean, me, drive?"

"Well, yeah," Denise shrugged. "You looked a little green the last time _I _drove, and I don't want you puking in my car," she smirked. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and took the keys from her hand, walking out to the car.

Denise walked out to the living room and waited until she saw Juice take a seat in the car before she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Charles.

"_Gege_," she said carefully, keeping an eye on the window while keeping out of view. "I'm taking out tonight - yes, with drinks. But I'm not going to get _everything_ you need. I told you, this takes time -"

"It takes time, or you're _taking_ your time?"

"I know what I'm doing, Charles," she hissed, her face contorting in annoyance. "Bye."

Hanging up, she went back to her room and hurried to change, possessing every intention of using the feminine wiles she wasn't even sure she had to inch towards her goal. The goal grew more and more vague with every passing day.

She admittedly _hated_ all of the more feminine clothes that Charles had forced her to fill her closet with to get this job done, but she could at least tolerate a few pieces, including the Aztec-print romper and black blazer she threw on with a pair of heels. She plaited her hair to one side, swiped on as little as makeup as she could to avoid embarrassing herself with it, and hurried out to the car. She hopped into the passenger seat of the car and closed the door, surprised to find it was Juice's turn to be caught off his guard - namely, by the expanse of skin of her legs, which admittedly, he'd _sort of_ seen before, but in a very different context.

He hadn't been expecting her to show that much leg. Denise just seemed so benign, he practically forgot she _had_ legs until now, when they were very, _very_ obvious.

Denise cleared her throat, and he quickly looked away from her - she finally managed to let out a snicker herself. "Listen, just so you know," she said as they finally took off. "You're not, you know - obligated to stick with me the whole night anything. But I'm probably going to cut out by midnight -"

"I'll be waiting at the door, Cinderella," he chuckled, strangely relieved to be driving, as it gave him some sense of control over something. It was a godsend, he decided that Denise recognized how much he needed to get out of the house, away from his thoughts. "And…" he added, before he could think to filter himself, "if you, you know, meet somebody, I know that three's a crowd. I won't cramp your style."

"What style?" Denise laughed, astounded at the idea that he believed it was a possibility she'd leave the bar with someone - did that mean, she wondered, that he thought she was _attractive_ enough? Attractive, period? The idea was admittedly flattering, she thought with a concealed smile, looking away towards the window.

This was a job, she reminded herself. She was happy because her job was getting closer to being done, and that was all.


	7. Chapter 7

"You _came_!" Melissa squealed the instant she saw Denise walk into the bar - the blonde woman, already well on her way to having had too much, practically clotheslined Denise into a hug. "You look super hot!"

"I'm actually a little chilly considering I'm not wearing any pants," Denise said with a lopsided grin as Melissa dragged her away from Juice, who had already become the recipient of very appreciative attention from a couple of flouncy sorority girls at the door. He glanced at Denise one more time before entertaining them with a grin, and Denise grudgingly smiled, shaking her head. It certainly didn't come as a surprise to _her_.

"You brought your little boytoy too," Melissa grinned impishly as she dragged Denise to a stool by the bar, still tugging on her arm. Upon receiving a pointed look from Denise, however, Melissa withdrew her hand and laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, right. You're not 'with' him - damn shame, too," she snickered, looking across the bar at him appreciatively. "You mean you're not even the tiniest bit jealous that those seniors from Delta Gamma are all over him?"

Denise opened her mouth to reply, but what her reply was about to be, Melissa would never know, Harvey interjected, leaning back on the bar between the two girls and beaming widely. "What are we talking about, ladies? And more importantly, why are we talking and not drinking?" he asked, waving the bartender to come over before leaning towards Denise. "I'm gonna buy _you_ a shot," he chuckled, and no sooner had he said it, the bartender had poured it. He slid it to Harvey, who then slid it across the bar to Denise, who picked it up and glanced at the shotglass of tequila.

"Liquor before beer, I guess," she shrugged before downing the shot and grimacing slightly as she clinked the shotglass back down onto the bar. "Cheers," she practically squeaked with a wince. She was beginning to think that she'd made a mistake coming out here, considering she and Juice were on opposite ends of the place. There was no point to this if she wouldn't be able to do anything useful - but here she was, and she was likely going to be stuck pretending she actually _wanted_ to be here.

A little bit more alcohol later, however, it didn't seem completely true that she didn't want to be there, as she was laughing loud enough for Juice to hear her clear across the bar. Despite the fact that he'd usually have passed, he'd had a couple drinks himself, but even so, he had quickly gotten bored of the sorority girls that had trailed along behind him since he arrived. It had been interesting at first - he'd never _done_ the college scene, and the fact that he was welcomed so openly into it felt good. It made him feel like he had a different life, that places like this were where he belonged.

When he overheard Denise laughing with her friends, however, he felt something unpleasant - unpleasant in a way that he couldn't blame on the alcohol. She had a life. She was twenty-four, and she'd had a full life before he came into it. The guilt seemed to overtake the buzz he'd started to feel, and so he ordered another while Melissa raucously dragged Denise out to a group of girls on the dance floor.

The thing about being a little bit drunk was that it was the one of the few ways to get someone to do the things they usually didn't - and for Denise Kwan, that was dancing. She used to dance as a child to make her father and grandfather happy, because it was what girls were supposed to do. After a few years, however, they never seemed to be quite as pleased as they were earlier on - they grew more and more permissive about her taking up more boyish hobbies, and so, dance classes were forgotten. It wasn't that she _couldn't_ do it. It was that usually, she simply _didn't_.

Drunk dancing, however, seemed to be the exception. With a newly topped off buzz, Juice noticed with annoyance that a few meathead-looking pretty boys seemed to be dancing a little too closely and in his current buzz, his conclusion seemed reasonable: they were complete sleazes, and she was his ride home, so it was better _he_ dance with her than them.

Even if he wasn't much of a dancer, he had little trouble getting the other guys out of the way so that he was dancing behind Denise. For the first time, with his inhibitions lowered as they were, he allowed himself to look at her appreciatively. Melissa, looking particularly amused at his arrival, mouthed to Denise, '_behind you!_'

Reflexively, Denise turned around, though not as steady on her feet as she normally was - swaying as she turned, Juice practically shivered unexpectedly when she brushed against the front of his jeans. She didn't seem to notice, though, as she instead grinned broadly and slung her arm forward onto his shoulder, pulling him into an enthusiastic one-armed hug - even in heels she was so petite that in order to do so, her body felt like it practically had to climb his.

"I thought I lost you for a second in here!" she laughed brightly, still hugging him with her lips close to his ear, and Juice could only manage a husky laugh in response as he wrapped an arm around her waist in return. And then, he was dancing with her. She was always warm, but now, aided by a few drinks, her warmth against him was almost maddening. She moved her body with his, _against _his without any knowledge, it seemed, of how long it had been since he'd had contact with anyone like this.

Now holding her body as close to his as he could as the danced, he started noticing other details about her - the wisps of hair that fell into her face, her bright, almost doll-like eyes… her pink, slightly parted lips. He had already been unwittingly leaning forward towards them when suddenly, Denise gave a loud yelp, and he looked up to see Harvey letting out a string of curses, having '_accidentally_' spilled a drink on her from behind.

"Oh my God, Denise, I'm sorry!" he said, abruptly pulling her away from Juice, away from the dance floor and towards the bar. Juice looked on with slight annoyance, knowing it had been completely intentional, but also knew that the stunt had probably spared him from doing something incredibly stupid.

Juice felt like it would have been better that he'd done that something stupid, though, when he saw Harvey at the bar, wiping off Denise's back with a napkin and copping a feel that was distastefully obvious. He waded purposefully through the crowd as well.

"I'm sorry, Denise, here," Harvey said, still pretending to be helping his dry off, though this time, his hand was moving significantly lower until Juice reached over and pulled a clearly stumbling Denise out of his reach.

"I think you've helped her out enough for one night, buddy," he said through narrowed eyes. "C'mon, Dee - I think you've had enough."

Juice didn't really understand why he was pulling her so protectively out of the bar, practically shielding her from anyone so much as even looking at her. She complied willingly enough and seemed to get some of her wits about her once they got outside into the cold night air.

"_Shit_," she muttered, pressing the heel of her hand onto her forehead. "I can't believe that - that I -"

But she was interrupted yet again when there was a loud noise somewhere down the street - the revving of an engine, or a motorcycle or something, and Juice immediately grabbed her and pulled her into a nearby alley, far enough back so that they were concealed in the shadows from anyone who happened to be passing by. Juice's expression was grim, his eyes narrowed as he backed Denise abruptly against the wall - he was _hiding_ her from whatever he thought was out there.

"It can't be them - they can't find me here with _you_," he said in a guttural tone, his eyes focused on the street at the end of the alleyway. "They can't get near you. _Fuck_ -"

"Juan? What's going on?" Denise asked, her forehead wrinkled. She reached up and gave his shoulder a squeeze, which appeared almost to shock him. He turned back to face her with a slight huff, shaking his head.

"Nothing. Nothing's going on," he snapped. He paused and looked down at the fearful expression on the young woman's face, and he felt himself melt. "I've got you, Dee. I've got you…"

And then, without thinking, he followed through with what he almost did in the bar. He pressed his lips to hers hungrily, and immediately gave a low groan at the warmth of her mouth on his. Inhibitions aside, he pressed his body against hers, pressing her up against the wall behind her when he realized she was returning the kiss. He smiled against her lips when he realized they tasted like liquor and _cherries_ - the idea that she'd gotten so drunk off of girly cocktails seemed to fit her so perfectly. She was just… _sweet_, and good, and innocent.

At this thought, he pulled away quickly - he practically jumped so that no part of him was touching her, leaving Denise looking completely stunned.

"Shit," he muttered, running his hands over his head and beginning to pace. "I - I'm sorry. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have done that. I'm..."

And he ran off, leaving Denise completely confused in the alleyway. It took a few moments before she realized one crucial detail: he still had her car keys.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, what's the word?"

Chibs would never have said anything against the reigning president, but he found it unusually cruel of Jax to force _him_ to fulfill the duties that Juice, for obvious reasons, could not. Perhaps it had been because Jax had seen him speaking with Jarry - he seemed to be particularly bitter towards anyone with even a semblance of a romantic connection with anyone, and so, Chibs had ceased unnecessary contact. Granted, there were a few moments of weakness, but nothing he wasn't skilled enough to hide.

He'd been sent to do recon on the Lin Triad, and had just ridden back into Charming, meeting Jax in his home where he said enjoying a scotch for breakfast while Gemma looked after the boys. He hated to admit it, but at times, Jax was even beginning to look like Clay at first glance.

"Lin's been quiet," he admitted, already expecting the way Jax's face snapped upward with a gaze of utmost disappointment. "There's been nothing substantive -"

"Then give me what you've _got_, Chibs," he said irately, putting his glass down with a loud clink - luckily, the boys didn't even seem to notice, as Gemma seemed to have perfected the art of insulating them, of distracting them since their mother's death. The older woman, however, was far more aware of what was happening and continued to watch the exchange through her peripheral vision.

"_Meimei,_" Chibs said with a shrug, not understanding why something that potentially had nothing to do with their business was so important to him. The only explanation that made sense was if this was personal, not business - but that would mean that Jax Teller was not being the leader he'd hoped, and no one seemed prepared to accept that. "We've intercepted some communications and the only lead we have is that Lin is worried about losing control of something called _Meimei_ - that losing it could compromise their entire operation. It sounds like it might be their number one priority."

"Then we get our hands on it," Jax said with a wide gesture of his arms. "We find out what _Meimei_ is and we take it - we ruin them -"

"Jax."

He looked up to see that his mother had spoken up gently while in the middle of pouring a glass of milk for Abel. She placed the cup on the table in front of the boy and walked over so that she stood with Chibs and Jax with her arms crossed. Her son, however, seemed unreceptive.

"Club business, not yours. You're no one's old lady, and there's no reason for you -"

"_You're_ my business. Your boys are my business," Gemma hissed. "You're my _only_ business. Remember that."

* * *

><p>Denise woke up in her own bed, but upon feeling sunlight so much as glare onto her face, she immediately first pulled her pillow over her head. The previous night had been terrible, and her poor, throbbing head was proof of it. After walking to the spot where they'd left the car and finding it gone, she'd waited outside, and had to get a ride home from Melissa as she got out of the bar. Upon pulling up in front of her house, she saw that Juice had driven right home - while Melissa somehow found this sweet and endearing, Denise was less than impressed. When she opened the door, Juice was out cold on the couch, half-dressed and half hanging off of it. Too exhausted to be angry, Denise stormed into her room and fell asleep in the same clothes as well.<p>

This morning, however, was a different story. Still smelling slightly of cigarette smoke and liquor, she dragged herself out of bed and into the living room where Juice immediately appeared like a damn whack-a-mole, holding a mug of coffee in her direction.

"Hey, I made -"

He was met immediately with a hearty smack across the face, sending the full mug of coffee clattering onto the carpet. Juice's face snapped to one side and he didn't look back up to look at her, knowing full well that she was absolutely seething at what he'd done the previous night.

"You _ass_," she snapped, hitting him again on the shoulder since he was smart enough to no longer expose his face to her - Juice frowned at the fact that she hit much harder than she looked like she would. "You kissed me. You left me drunk in an alley. You stole my _car_ -"

"I was drunk, I brought it right back home!"

"Like that makes it any better?"

"No," Juice said, shaking his head. The movement revealed the fact that she'd left a red mark across his face, and despite knowing he'd likely been through worse, she felt _bad_. "It doesn't make it better. It was a dick move, and that's why I'm leaving - I just wanted to stay long enough to apologize -"

"No!" Denise interrupted - she couldn't just let him leave when her job wasn't done. Judging by the surprised expression on his face, however, she realized that she'd done something that would require an explanation. She grimaced and shook her head, turning away slightly. It could work in her favor. "No, I - you don't have to go," she said, feeling slightly embarrassed by the outburst. "I just was… really shaken by it, is all."

"You're not kicking me out?" Juice asked. Denise's brow furrowed and she cocked her head to one side, and Juice let out a low whistle. "I'm sorry," he said, digging the heels of his hands onto the edge of his eye sockets. He'd _meant_ well. In his mind, he'd been protecting her - but his mind had also been incredibly drunk at the time so as always, the best intentions had the worst results as far as Juice was concerned. He groaned, remembering just how he'd behaved the previous night, and uncovered his eyes, finally managing to look at Denise again. "You are… one of the _best_ people that I've ever met. And I've got a lot of shit that I'm hiding from," he explained. "I thought… kissing you was a really, really shitty thing to do, because it's dangerous. So I thought leaving you was…"

"Protecting me?" Denise supplied, now feeling almost physically pained by the statement, the knowledge that the kiss had possibly come from _somewhere_ other than a simple drunken whim on his part. On her own part, Denise felt a sinking feeling that she was angry at him for bigger reasons as well - that she'd actually been _hurt_ by what he'd done. Juice gave a forced laugh and shrugged, throwing his hands up. Denise shifted her weight, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head. "From what?"

"If I told you that, I'd be dragging you through even more shit," Juice refused. "I'm already doing that to you enough just by being here."

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't supposed to be," she answered suddenly. She wasn't sure this time if it was part of the act, or if it was something she was truly coming to believe.

"You really think that?"

"Yeah," Denise said, a weak smile crossing her face. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I know this is a really short update! No worries, another one will be on its way soon. I received a PM asking a couple of questions, so I thought I would just address them in an author's note. In my head as I'm writing, Denise is case as Kristin Kreuk, if that helps anyone else out in reading the story. I have a link on my profile to a Tumblr page I have dedicated for extra media for my stories, though the material is still really sparse; the username is la-vik-ffn._

_I also want to thank my readers and reviewers so far for your great feedback. You're a huge motivator for me to keep updating as often as I do, and I hope to keep it up for a good while._

_Just a heads up that the Juice/Denise fluff is slowly going to be interspersed with more and more conflict, and eventually, the feces will hit the fan. So, enjoy the fluff while it lasts! Cheers!_


	9. Chapter 9

"Lock up if you decide to go anywhere, " Denise said, slinging a small backpack over her shoulder - nearly a week had passed since the incident at the bar on Monday, and now that it was Friday, she was going back down to the Bay Area. Juice, on the other hand, was sitting on the sofa wearing a pair of boxers and an undershirt. Seemingly having gotten past the awkward fact that they'd made out in alleyway when they'd both had a little too much to drink, Denise was surprisingly unfazed by this, but gave him shit for it anyway once it became habit for him.

"Leaving would mean putting pants on," he shrugged, grimacing slightly. Denise rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked out the door. She made it out to the car and let out a small sigh, pulling out her phone to call her brother and let him know that she was in the car. Denise couldn't admit it to herself or to anyone else, but she was strangely glad that she didn't have much of anything as far as information to pass on about Juice. She was becoming less and less willing to follow through with this.

Juice, however, watched out the window for her to drive off and started to get dressed - he had things to check on that he couldn't risk her getting caught following him. Little did he know, however, that she had pulled off into a side street and switched cars at a location that Charles had set up, leaving the key with a local business owner for her to pick up. Leaving her trademark blue Ford Focus at this location, she returned to the main street in a black Lexus in time to see that Juice had left the apartment and started off somewhere on foot.

* * *

><p>Chibs didn't feel completely secure any time Unser told him they needed to be somewhere alone - but again, here he was, sitting in the passenger seat of Unser's old car as they drove up high five.<p>

"I hope this has something to do with _Meimei_," Chibs said sourly, his gaze planted on the road ahead of them. "I'm supposed to be putting _all_ of my goddamn time into finding it, whatever it is."

"I have no idea about where you're gonna find whatever this _Meimei_," Unser replied. Jax's current theory, outlandish as it seemed, was that Meimei had to do with a drug deal that they needed to intercept - Chibs had tried to reason otherwise, but he was met with Jax's stubborn insistence that Meimei, which he found meant 'little sister' in Chinese, was somehow a type of code, a reference to 'little sister' in Billy Idol's song, White Wedding. Jax wouldn't listen to any suggestion that he was growing more and more ridiculous, less and less level-headed in his pursuit. "It's a good cover, though," Unser continued. Chibs frowned and gestured with his hand for Unser to continue.

"Listen," he said. "I know that you're putting on this front for the club's sake, but they're not here. They won't know."

Chibs understood now _very_ quickly what this meant, coming from Unser. This had something to do with Juice.

"What's going on with the boy now?" he asked stiffly. "Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"When isn't he?" Unser asked with a heaving breath. "I got a call in from a connection at the Stockton impound lot. They have his bike, no sign of him anywhere. I thought we should go check it out."

"You know I can't do this."

"It's better than taking shots in the dark about what the hell _Meimei_ is," Unser pointed out. Chibs grudgingly admitted that the old man had a point.

* * *

><p>Juice waited until dark to sneak into the impound lot under the chain-link fence - he didn't want to pay his bike a visit while Denise was around, because she'd ask questions. She'd want to know why a bike mattered so much to him, and answering that question would lead to more questions that she didn't need to know the answer to.<p>

But she _wanted_ those answers more than anything, evidenced by the fact that she very quietly followed him in, sliding through the gap he'd left under the fence with hardly a sound and nimbly crouching through the next row over.

Juice stopped next to his bike, quickly able to find it as though drawn to it like a magnet. He crouched next to it and patted his hand on the seat with a breath.

"I can't come back for you yet," he explained in a near whisper that Denise had to struggle to hear, even though their surroundings were practically dead silent. "There's too much at stake. But eventually you'll be outta here."

"She'll be out of here _tonight_."

Denise clenched her jaw to keep from gasping at the arrival of an unfamiliar voice. Juice leapt to his feet and pulled his Beretta out of the waistband of his pants; Denise heard him cock it, and she immediately wondered if she'd gotten herself into a situation she couldn't get out of with her life.

"Don't make me shoot you, Chibs," Juice said, his voice quavering audibly - the request was probably more for himself than anything else, because as badly as he was shaking, he actually might have missed. Denise listened with bated breath from behind another impounded car as a set of footsteps drew nearer with a series of dull thuds.

"Put the fucking gun down, boy, I'm not here to hurt you."

There was a dense thick silence that rolled in like a fog before another sound - Juice had actually dropped his gun to the ground. There was no further sound that indicated her or this _Chibs_ had taken as much as a step closer to one another, and Denise slowly pivoted so that she could just barely glimpse them from the reflection of a reflection in a rearview mirror.

"Unser got his hands on these," Chibs said, holding up a pair of keys for Juice to see. "Only he and I know that you're here. You don't look like you've been on the streets or holed up in a motel. You look well."

"Yeah. I'm doing pretty well for myself," Juice said stiffly.

"I'm taking the bike back to Charming," Chibs said - he paused, as though his statement had surprised even himself. "To Jax. We'll convince everyone you're dead. You can go on with whatever you've got going for you here -"

"You're -"

"I'm going to cover for you, boy, don't waste it," Chibs said through gritted teeth. "Whatever you've got -"

"There's a girl, Chibs," Juice interrupted abruptly, cutting the man off as though the confession had disoriented him and he wanted to say anything he could to put it on pause. Denise, on the other hand, pressed a hand over her mouth and looked away from the mirror she used as a periscope of sorts. She didn't want to start meaning something to him, not now that she was starting to get the information she needed - but it seemed like it was too late.

"Well," Chibs said with a slightly forced laugh after a short pause. "I hope she's a good one."

"She's good. Too good," Juice said before adding, with a certain weakness to his voice, "Like, Tara-good."

_Tara_. Denise's brow furrowed as she struggled to place whether or not she had even come across the name in her background reading. What did she have to do with Juice, and why did he sound so damaged when he mentioned her name?

"Then… keep her the hell away from Charming," Chibs advised. Juice gave a weak laugh, and the message behind it was clear. he had never had any intention of bringing Denise anywhere near Charming. Another silence, before Chibs gave a heaving sigh and spoke up again in a barely audible voice. "I love you, Juicy."

"I know," Juice replied, chuckling again. And then, slowly, Chibs approached and clapped a hand on Juice's shoulder. Juice did him one better and enveloped the older man in a tight hug, extremely relieved at having achieved some level of peace.

Pulling away from the hug, Chibs cleared his throat and spoke up, this time sounding much more grave. "They'll want your kutte."

"_What?_"

"It's the only way that Jax will believe that you're dead - as much as he hates you, the only way he knows you'd let go of it is if it's pulled off of your cold, dead body."

Denise's eyes widened slightly. The kutte was still in the townhouse - they were going back there, and if she wanted to follow, if she wanted to keep finding any of the information she needed to get this over with. She scrambled silently back across the lot, out under the chainlink fence, and back home.

"It's back home - I mean, back at… her place," Juice explained. Chibs raised his eyebrows slightly at the fact that whoever this girl was, Juice was actually staying with her, calling her place home. "How about you just follow? I'll hand it over back there."

Chibs couldn't help but throw him a bone, handing him the keys to his bike so he could have one last ride, while Chibs rode along behind him with Unser in the car. Unser kept quiet, but Chibs knew that inside, the old man was smug as hell. They pulled up in front of the small slate blue townhouse. Chibs was again surprised when Juice handed him back the keys to the bike, and in turn, pulled a key out of his pocket to unlock the front door.

He was really _living_ with this girl. They both walked into the empty house, and Chibs felt a strange sense of relief that the boy had a decent setup here, even if it was obvious he was just staying on the couch.

"She's really something," Juice said with a throaty chuckle - he didn't know that behind the closed door to Denise's bedroom, _she_ was waiting and listening. "I.. I think if I don't ever go back to Charming…"

His voice trailed off, and Denise buried her head in her hands at the fact that there was a possibility this had gone too far - she had taken her act too far. It was only supposed to be enough to get the information she needed, but instead, she was beginning to _mean_ something to him. He was beginning to see a vague idea of a future with her, when there was no future to be had. Was there?

"It's good you got away when you did - it's about to go down. Jax is taking us all straight to hell," Chibs admitted, the defeat clear in his voice. "He doesn't give a damn about the club. The Sons are just his tools. He'll go to any lengths for it now."

"For?"

"For revenge," Chibs explain. "Against Lin."

And suddenly, Denise couldn't hold in her reaction - she let out a gasp that, judging by the silence that fell on the living room, she'd been heard. There were a few moments of silence, where she felt herself shaking in fear that she'd now been found out, then the door she was leaning against was forcefully yanked open, and she fell out of the room, scrambling to her feet and facing both Juice and Chibs with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"Is this her?"

"I'm Denise. Denise Kwan," she said, drawing herself up as best as she could. Chibs looked to Juice, who gave a slight nod, but looked at her with an expression that strangely resembled _hurt_. He said nothing.

"You can call me Chibs if you ever see my ugly mug again," the older man said, holding his gloved hand out to her. Hesitantly, she reached out to shake up, withdrawing as quickly as possible. "But I pray you don't." Denise glanced between the two men and saw that Juice's kutte was slung over Chibs' other forearm, and he was pointedly avoiding looking at it. Chibs glanced, in turn, between Juice and his Good Samaritan, and chuckled, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. "You two look out for one another. Good luck, alright?"

And he left abruptly, closing the door behind him and leaving Juice and Denise alone. There was a long silence, where neither of them looked at one another, each with their own bone to pick but neither with the willingness to speak first until finally Denise crossed her arms and shifted her weight resolutely.

"Why did you just bring someone _into my house_ -"

"Why did you lie about going home to Burlingame tonight?" Juice snapped, his face suddenly contorting in hurt and anger - he consciously took a few steps forward, prompting Denise to take a couple of steps back. "You don't trust me? You _too_?" he said - Denise felt herself shaking again, now at the realization that for whatever reason, her not _trusting_ him had made him snap. "Well, that's fucking _amazing_!" he roared, slapping the bare palm of his hand on the wall behind her with a loud thud, causing her to jump in surprise and give a small cry. Immediately realizing what he'd done, Juice withdrew his hand, running both hands hard over the sides of his head and turning away briefly, looking upward.

"I'm sorry - Dee, I'm sorry," he said, unable to look at her after what he'd just done. He had no right, he reminded himself. She had every right to be pissed at him, and he had none. But he was _angry_ nonetheless. Hurt. "I'm sorry, I just -"

"I don't _trust_ you?" Denise interrupted, her voice now shaky and filled with fury - it was a tone so unfamiliar from the short weeks he had known her that he froze and turned around quickly to see that her face, too, was red and pinched with anger. "That - that is _bullshit_. I let you in my house without knowing a damn thing about you, I didn't ask you questions, even when you put a gun in my face. Don't ride me about not _trusting_ you," she hissed angrily. There was a short while of heated, prolonged eye contact and silence before she gave a huff and strode past him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his jaw tight. Suddenly, she didn't seem like the sweet girl that he'd gotten to know, the waif who had taken him in off of the street. She was hard. She was angry. She turned to him with a challenging expression, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just so you're happy - just so you don't accuse me of lying," she said pointedly, "I _will_ leave."

She turned and walked towards the door, closing her hand around the doorknob and starting to pull the door open. Before she could open a gap large enough to exit through, however, Juice had practically flown across the room and again slammed his hand on the door, shutting it so hard that it nearly bounced against the doorjamb. He grabbed her by the crook of her arm and turned her to face him.

"You're not going _anywhere_," he said, his eyes glaring and focused, but his voice filled with something else. Before Denise could even begin to wonder what that something else was, however, he answered the question for her as he brought his mouth down upon hers, kissing her forcefully and pressing her with his muscular body against the door.

He let out a guttural growl when he realized this time, completely sober, she was still reciprocating - her teeth caught gently on his lower lip, and he pulled back momentarily for breath, resting his forehead against hers and roving his hands over her waist, her hips, before clasping onto her thighs and hoisting her upwards. She obliged, wrapping her legs around him as he wolfishly leaned in again, aiming his kisses now on the pale skin of her neck.

"Juan…" she said with a small whimper, the nails of one hand grazing over the nape of his neck. He laughed throatily without pulling back, the sensation of which caused her to give a sensual gasp. He smirked with satisfaction as he pulled back momentarily.

"Call me Juice," he said before he could stop himself - and as he pressed his hips firmly against hers, she willingly obliged.


	10. Chapter 10

Jax Teller remained expressionless, his hands folded in front of his mouth as Juice's kutte was thrown onto the table in front of him. Chibs had just ridden in on the runaway's bike, and he threw the keys onto the table as well.

"I was hoping to bring him to ye alive," Chibs said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. The other Sons at the table let out a low hiss at the suggestion - that Juice was dead. Jax curled the leather slightly into his fist and exhaled through his nostrils, shaking his head amid the reactions at the table.

"I'm sorry, brother. I know it's been hard on you," he said, though his tone was flat and expressionless as it had been for practically a month now. "Who took him out?"

"The Asians," Chibs lied easily. "They found out he was on the lam and followed him, tried to bring him into the fold. He refused."

If he couldn't bring the boy back, Chibs reasoned internally, he could at least clear his name in memoriam. Jax nodded silently, and Chibs couldn't help but feel a slight chill, knowing that he'd just _lied_ to Jax, who already had a long list of people with whom he had a score to settle. But the President seemed satisfied with the explanation, drumming his hands on the table in front of him.

"Rat or not, he was still one of ours, and when someone takes out one of ours, it's our business," he said - but whether it was sincere or not was unclear. There was a brief flash of something that looked like regret, but it was quickly wiped away, much like any other impression of humanity in him recently.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Tig asked, shaking his head and tapping on the table with a palm of his hand. "It means they're onto us. They're startin' somethin' - we can't bother with all this spying and -"

"No. We have a _plan_," Jax interrupted, not looking at anyone but instead at his hands, his expression hard and determined in such a way that stated it was no use to try to argue. "We find and intercept _Meimei_, and we ruin them -"

"Jax."

"It's _decided_," he said sternly, rising to his feet and standing toe-to-toe with Chibs, who had just attempted to voice dissent. "Lin doesn't deserve to go fast. He doesn't get to go out easy."

And he simply _left_, heading back home and leaving his brothers completely lost for words at what his leadership was turning into, as well as struck dumb by how they were going to even speak about the fact that Juice was dead.

Jax arrived home, and immediately upon walking through the door, Gemma could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong, moreso than it had been before he left. She intercepted him at the front door before he could go into the boys' bedroom in his state, eyeing him questioningly.

"Juice is dead," Jax stated simply, scratching the back of his head - Gemma was unable to conceal a gasp, bringing a hand up to her chest. "The Chinese got their hands on him. Chibs just brought back his kutte and his bike."

"Oh God, no…" Gemma said, shaking her head, and Jax suddenly felt the weight of the news finally hit him. There was a brief moment of questioning, if Juice's death was truly what he wanted. "God, no. He loved you… he loved all of us…"

She knew that Jax had bad blood with the boy, she knew that he'd done a great many wrongs. He'd fucked up more than his fair share of times, there was no denying that. But he'd never done a single damn thing with bad intentions for any of them. She knew the boy had his faults - that he sometimes was more messed up than he let on - but she also knew that he had a heart, and because of it, he'd done the unthinkable for her. Juice had gotten more blood on his hands to preserve her life, and she'd never been able to repay him for it.

Gemma hurried off and retreated to her own room before breaking down behind her closed door, covering her face with her hands. "I'm so, so sorry, sweetie," she muttered into her palms, shaking her head. "This shouldn't have happened to you. I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>The sound of her phone going off was enough to bring Denise at least halfway to awake. Her eyes remained closed, but she slowly began to recall snippets of the previous night in detail when she realized, while lying on her side, there was an arm draped over her waist and another beneath her head.<p>

When she realized that she would practically need to call in a lumberjack to deal with a certain case of morning wood, she squirmed slightly as she finally acknowledged that last night had really happened - she was naked under the sheet. So was he.

Juice.

They'd made their way at some point during the evening from the living room to her bedroom, and she opened her eyes when she realized that they had most definitely gone all the way, back to start, and all the way again. Hearing the sound of slight snoring behind her, she carefully reached over to look at her phone without disturbing him - Melissa had sent her a text message to ask her about working on a group presentation.

Denise knew she _should_ go, so with a brief pause, she attempted to squirm out from Juice's arn and sit up, only to have his hold around her waist tighten, pulling her back onto the bed and pressing her close to him again. In spite of herself, she laughed - not forced or with any sort of intention, but because there was something about being this way that made her feel genuinely _okay_. He propped himself slightly with the arm that had been underneath her head and grinned sleepily as he nuzzled her neck gently. There was just something _right_ about this, he decided - even if a part of him was still processing last night, he believed what Denise had once said: that people were where they were because they were supposed to be. Maybe seeing Chibs and giving up his bike and his kutte had happened because he was supposed to be here instead.

"Melissa and I have a project to work on," she laughed breathlessly, only half-heartedly trying to get out from his hold. "I have to go -"

"Tell her it's a bad time," he laughed huskily, grazing his teeth over the tender skin behind her ear, making her breath hitch in her throat. Nestling into him slightly, Denise was admittedly tempted to take his suggestion, but she reluctantly pulled away and got to her feet, pulling the blanket off the bed to cover herself as well and leaving Juice completely exposed. He chuckled, lacing his fingers behind his head and laying back, shaking his head.

"I have to _go_, Juice," she laughed, walking over to her closet and quickly pulling out the first semi-matching clothes that she could find. He felt strangely happy, hearing her call him _Juice_, instead of Juan.

"Suit yourself," he smirked. After putting on some underwear and a snug grey t-shirt, Denise turned around, and realized that he was still _looking_ at her, and she at him. There was a brief silence, as though both were trying to find a way to address the previous night but failing. It had all just happened so quickly, it was probably better to drop it. Denise turned back around and pulled on a tight pair of black jeans and tied her hair back messily, shooting him only a wordless smile before hurrying out.

Juice stayed in Denise's bed for a short while before getting out and throwing his clothes back on - at face value, because this was the first time he'd been in a comfortable bed for a pretty long time, but also because it almost felt like he got out of bed, it opened the door to one or the other of them forgetting about the previous night, and whatever it was, wherever it had come from, it wasn't something he _wanted_ to forget about. Whatever this was with her, it was the only thing that made things okay again, and the one thing he needed was for something - _anything_ - to still be okay. He had half the mind to just stay naked in her bed as a reminder, just to make sure _she_ didn't forget it either.

But that, he reasoned, would probably just freak her out completely, and freaking her out would rule out the possibility of last night ever being discussed, let alone repeated. So, he got up and got dressed.

Denise, meanwhile, had made her way to Melissa's apartment, her eyes covered with a pair of sunglasses to hide the fact that her eyes were still heavily lidded from having done very little sleeping the night before. She was slightly winded, having needed to retrieve her car from where she'd left it the previous night. Melissa saw her at the door, and, after glancing at her for a while, pulled her inside and closed the door quickly behind her.

"You totally _banged_ him last night."

"What?" Denise asked, pulling off her sunglasses and turning to face her friend, whose face had been lit up with an impish grin and whose voice was not lowered in the least because she lived alone anyway. "I - you know what, no comment. _No comment_," she said, shaking her head.

"You don't need to comment, your neck looks like it got caught in a bear trap!" Melissa laughed, pushing Denise towards the nearest mirror where she caught sight of herself for the first time that morning. Juice, as it turned out, had very fervently gone to town on her neck. Denise gasped and groaned, turning away from the mirror while Melissa still continued laughing. "This would've probably been a good day to wear a scarf."

"How about we just work on that project?" Denise said dismissively, making her way towards the sofa in Melissa's living room and knowing she wouldn't be able to live this one down. Melissa, however, couldn't have been more pleased to see the girl she considered a good friend actually enjoying herself for once. Unfortunately, this meant that for the entire time they were meant to work on their presentation, she insisted instead upon constantly reminding Denise of the state she was in.

As such, the work took much longer than it needed to - but thankfully still got done and Denise left in a hurry, only realizing once she had gotten back to her car that she'd left her phone there. She groaned when she saw that she'd missed several calls from her brother and, before starting the car to leave, dialed his number. When he answered, however, he didn't greet with a hello or any greeting, but rather with impatience.

"_Well_?" he snapped, and Denise immediately remembered that the entire point of sneaking around to eavesdrop the previous night. had been to try and see what Juice did while she was away. It wasn't that she'd failed, but the information she _had_ learned, she wasn't willing to share.

"He's - he's starting to crack, _ge_," Denise replied vaguely, doing what she could in order to conceal the unease. She could have talked about last night, about Chibs, about how SAMCRO wanted Juice _dead_, but none of it felt right to say. She couldn't get herself to say any of it. "I just - I need more time."

"You don't _have_ more time, _mei_," he snapped, raising his voice at her. Denise's jaw clenched, not receptive to being rushed when she'd agreed to help _him_. "Uncle wants the information _now_. You need to step it up. Don't fail me."

And then, he hung up. Denise tossed her phone into the passenger seat and slapped her palms against her steering wheel in frustration, taking a few breaths to calm herself before starting her car. What more could she do? More importantly, what was she still willing to do?


	11. Chapter 11

Denise wasn't even _speaking_ to him.

Juice found that in the days that followed waking up in bed together, she went out of her way to be awake before him, to do whatever she needed to do in the kitchen while he was asleep, to slip out as wordlessly as possible. And it _bothered_ him to no end. The sense of being 'okay' that had first accompanied that night had faded, leaving him yet again with a sense of having nothing left. It was wrong, maybe, to start on the slippery slope towards relying on the woman for anything, but he'd done many worse wrongs in his time.

It was getting to him. So much so that he'd taken to shutting the blinds completely again. He had rearranged her pantry, her DVD's, everything he could get his hands on in the living room. He was fairly sure she'd noticed that he'd been making her bed in the morning too, because she left her door ajar when she left. But still, she said nothing. Finally, enough was enough. When she walked through her front door after having been in class all day while he'd been watching Animal Planet documentaries again, he stopped her before she could retreat into her room, blocking the entrance.

And then he realized he wasn't entirely sure what to say to her - he had no place trying to confront her over a single hookup that she obviously didn't want to talk about, even he knew that. But he just wanted to end the silent treatment - five days was enough.

"Do you know the two types of hippopotamus?" he asked finally, unable to come up with a better question under her scrutinizing gaze. It had been the last thing he'd seen on television, and therefore the first thing out of his short-term memory. Denise, however, eyed him questioningly, shrugging.

"I imagine you have… the normal kind, and… the Hungry Hungry kind," she replied. She attempted to nudge past Juice, but the response elicited a laugh from him that in turn brought out a grudging grin from Denise. "God, don't corner me with trivia like that, we're not playing Jeopardy in here."

Juice grinned - he dug his hands into his pockets and didn't move from his spot in front of her door. Realizing that he wouldn't relent until the silent treatment was over, Denise sighed and shifted her weight.

"Look, I don't want anything to be weird - you're here, I'm here," she said, holding her hands up as though desperate to keep him at a distance. "And we've been getting along just fine up until… until…"

"Until we banged, you mean."

"Yes, until we _banged_," Denise snapped in annoyance. "So can we just go back to normal? Please?"

"I've been trying," Juice shrugged. "You're the one avoiding me like I'm diseased, which seems a little late on your part, because if I was diseased and you already slept with me, you'd have already caught it -"

"_Nice_."

Denise moved over to the kitchen to grab herself some water before peering out, suddenly remembering to mention something else. "Melissa and Harvey wanted to come over - they were gonna bring drinks or something to celebrate our project going well."

"Harvey - Handsy Harvey," Juice said with a very obviously faked grin which Denise at least appeared not to notice. "Sounds… great."

Truth be told, he sort of wanted to get her undivided attention for a while to figure out what the silent treatment had been about now that it was over, but he figured that drinks were an equally promising means of getting the answer he was looking for.

He was disappointed, however, when Denise seemed to focus more on Melissa than anything else, leaving him to try and make conversation with Harvey without wanting to bash the hipster-boy's little face in. Eventually, Melissa took Denise away to hang out in her room for 'girl talk'. Harvey cracked a joke about the two girls probably going in there to make out, and had it been a joke about anyone else, Juice might have laughed.

"I'll really happy," Melissa said to Denise once they had gotten into the room and shut the door behind them. She took a sip from her wine cooler and grinned at the confused look on Denise's face. "I've known you for a couple years - and you're _different_ when you're with Juan. Good different."

"I'm not _different_," she said, bristling slightly. Melissa simply laughed, patting her on the shoulder like she was a child who had told her an outlandish theory about where babies came from.

Harvey and Juice, on the other hand, didn't seem to be enjoying one another's county nearly as much.

"What are you really doing here?" Harvey asked. Juice took a sip from the Coors Light that he'd taken because Denise had handed it to him while he sat on the ground so he wouldn't need to sit with Harvey on the couch.

"Dee's doing me a solid," he shrugged before turning to face him, unable to help a smirk from crossing his face. "Does it bother you, me being here?"

In a few minutes, likely because Denise struggled with girl talk, the girls came back out to the living room - they watched television, made small-talk, until finally Melissa and Harvey excused themselves to leave. Denise, on the other hand, reached out for the glasses that had been left behind and poured herself another glass of pink wine.

"You want another round, or is pink wine too emasculating for you?" she asked Juice with a chuckle after he settled back onto his usual spot on the couch. Denise sat on the floor, laying the side of her face on the table tiredly. Because the offer came from Denise, he obliged.

"Hit me," he said, sliding his glass across the coffee table to her so she could pour him a little. Now, he decided, was a better chance than ever to at least get her talking. And talk she did.

"You know, I honestly love my brother to death, but I don't _like_ him at all," she laughed as though it was something incredibly funny - perhaps, after more than two more glasses of wine, it was, because Juice chuckled a little at it too. "Because he just - he doesn't think about other people. He always complains and _complains_," she rambled, shaking her head. "I've told you about my brother, right?"

"Nope. Not a thing - but since your name is Denise, I'm sincerely hoping his name is Denephew."

"His name is _Charles_," Denise corrected. "And he's a stick in the mud."

And she just kept talking - not about much of anything in particular, but just words upon words upon words. For some reason, it made Juice, who was internally beating himself up a little for having a little too much again just because she kept pouring it, feel terrible. Because hadn't she said that night when they slept together, she trusted him without knowing anything about him? The idea gnawed and gnawed at him until finally, he slammed his glass down a little harder than he'd meant to, causing the other objects on the table to rattle slightly. Denise looked up questioningly.

"I owe you answers," he said simply, looking down at his glass instead oat the woman across from him. Still at least somewhat lucid, she realized she didn't _want _him to talk - she didn't want the information she had been assigned to get from him. She shook her head.

"I told you, I'm not asking you any questions," she insisted, pushing her now-empty glass aside. "It doesn't matter to me -"

"Well, it matters to _me_," Juice interrupted, his face again angry - Denise had to admit that she was a little scared of him when he was like this. "I can't just keep staying here scared shitless if someone is going to come after me without you _getting_ it, okay? You said everyone's where they're at for a reason, and I need to tell you the reason _I'm_ here."

Denise attempted to interrupt him, to stop him from talking because she didn't want to be put in the position of being _done_ with her job and needing to choose what to do with the information he was so willingly giving up all of a sudden. "My name is Juan Carlos Ortiz, I was born in Queens…"

Denise could barely keep up with everything he was saying - about SAMCRO, about the people of Charming, about things he'd done and people he'd hurt. She found herself leaning away from him as he spoke, realizing she hadn't expected _this_. She'd known he'd done things, been involved in some things, but never this much. And then, the biggest bombshell of them all was dropped.

"And Gemma _killed_ her," he said frantically, now gesturing emphatically with his hands. "I had to help her cover it up, I couldn't think of anything else to do. She's the closest thing I've had to a mom in a _long_ time. If Jax ever found out - if anyone else did…"

His voice trailed off, and Denise felt her heart practically drop into her stomach at the hopeless expression on his face, but even moreso, she was confused. "C-covered up?" she stammered.

"I - I said it was someone else. The Chinese," he said, shaking his head fervently. "Henry Lin."

And Denise froze - _this_ was something that Charles and her Uncle would want to know. This was the kind of thing they expected her to bring back to them. Her hands shook, however, when she realized that she didn't feel willing to hand this information over. She knew she couldn't do it. She looked up and saw that Juice was now looking at her expectantly after she had been silent for a good while, and she took a deep breath.

"And now that I know?" she asked hesitantly. "What does that make me?"

Juice paused for a moment in thought before burying his face in his hands, shaking his head. "An accessory. An accomplice. I don't even know," he said ruefully. And suddenly, he leapt to his feet, picking up the duffel bag with his things and walking towards the door before Denise rose as well, yanking his bag from his hand and throwing it back to the ground.

"What the _hell_?" she hissed. "You make me a part of this and then you're gonna run away?"

"Of course I'm leaving!" he said, throwing his hands out to his sides. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I can't be around you - I can't. Not while I'm like this. You're gonna -"

"I've been keeping you here for weeks!" she said shrilly. "If you go down, you have a rope tied around my ankle, you're gonna pull me right down with you!"

Juice paused, mulling over her words for a few moments, comprehending them a little more slowly because he wasn't completely sober. He backed up a few steps so his back was against the front door before sinking to the ground, burying his head in his hands.

"God, I'm sorry, Dee. You know, I meant well. I _meant_ well. I thought telling you would help," he said - there was a crack in his voice, and Denise was shocked to realize that he was crying. She moved over so that she was sitting on the ground next to him, but didn't touch him or speak yet. "I'm so sorry - what do you want me to -"

"Nothing. We do nothing, okay?" she said finally. "Please stop apologizing…"

She didn't want him to apologize, because it wasn't something she could do in return, even if she had plenty plaguing her. She had plenty to apologize for. Juice's shoulders shook, and Denise realized that he was actually curled up and _sobbing_, which she couldn't stand to see.

"Chibs told me back in Charming that I… I should just blow my own brains out, end it before -"

"No!" Denise said, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder, jerking him slightly towards her. The sudden contact caused him to look up at her, getting a brief glimpse at the strangely fierce expression on her face before she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly right there on the floor. And that was it - he was done for. After about a month of holding it inside of himself, Juice's body was wracked with sobs of regret, of remorse, of self-loathing for all the _shit_ he'd done. Denise simply sat there and let him cry.

She sat there with him for hours, at some points even crying a little herself until finally, he was just too worn out to feel any of it anymore. When he felt his own breaths finally grow steady hours later, he realized that she had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, her arms still wrapped around him. Hesitantly, he reached out and gave her a slight shake, knowing that if she stayed like that, her neck would be aching for it later. She stirred after a few seconds and looked up at Juice with sleepy, bleary eyes before withdrawing her arms and folding her hands in her lap.

"A-are… are you okay?" she asked awkwardly. He nodded slightly, and she gave a small smile, nodding. "Good -"

"Do we.. do we _have_ something? You and me?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. It was such a genuine question, Denise almost didn't know how to respond, but she knew that the answer she chose would change everything either way. If she said no, then all doors would be shut, all walls would be back up - there'd be no way to get anything else from him. But if she said yes, she'd never be able to turn over the information she was supposed to. Either way, this was the end of the road. She was out, she had forfeited her mission either way, so there was nothing to be lost by answering honestly.

"Yeah," she said, a weak smile crossing her face as she reached out and squeezed one of his hands. "Yeah, we do."

Juice abruptly reached out, enveloping the woman in front of him in a tight embrace - he'd been ready to leave if she'd wanted him to, but she _didn't_. He pulled back and kissed her, because he simply couldn't help himself. Denise was an angel, and, unlike anyone who had come in and out of his life before, anyone he had been loyal to and sacrificed for, she was _his_.


	12. Chapter 12

"Let's go somewhere," Denise said through heavily lidded eyes - it was three in the morning, and neither she nor Juice had slept yet that night, admittedly, so the statement, made while she rested her head gently on his bare chest, was definitely impulsive.

Since Friday night, they had both been understandably enthralled with one another, justifying it by the fact that it was always this way when things were new. On Saturday, Denise had gone out briefly upon realizing they were out of groceries, but apart from that, they remained holed up in the house together, usually unclothed and rather content. She shifted and gently traced her finger over his sternum and smiled sleepily, just barely able to make out Juice's reaction in the blue-tinged moonlight that streamed in from the window. "Somewhere far. Just - somewhere different."

"Like where?"

"The beach - let's go to Stinson Beach," Denise suggested, sitting up and pulling the sheet up to cover herself. Juice sat up slightly too, resting on his forearms and cocking his head to one side.

"Isn't that about three hours?"

"I drive there, you drive back?" Denise suggested. "If we leave soon, we'll have a whole day."

"Aren't there sharks there?"

"I don't know, let's find out," she chuckled - she found herself somehow transforming in a way since Friday night, if it was possible to change this quickly, into a hybrid of her real self and the Denise she had tried to be for the sake of her abandoned mission. Admittedly, she wanted to get away from Stockton and go somewhere other than home to Burlingame because she was desperate in her own way. She hadn't thought of how she was going to address the decision she'd made, to let this _thing_ with Juice actually be real instead of a job, and she simply didn't want to face it yet. If she could get away, even if just for a day, Denise promised herself she would figure it out.

"Oh, I forgot!" she said suddenly, scrambling towards the side of the bed and reaching under the bed, resurfacing with a small box that she held out to Juice. "I, uh - this is for you."

A _phone_. He glanced down at the box for a moment before taking it, grimacing. "I don't really have anyone to call with this, you really shouldn't -"

"You have me," she shrugged. "I mean, if you're gonna have a normal life here, you have to start somewhere, right?"

A normal life. Juice wasn't even sure he _knew_ how to have one, but the idea of a new start, the strange sense of hope that came with starting whatever this was with Denise was the break he'd been hoping the universe would cut him for a long time now.

"You know what? Let's go," he chuckled, shaking his his head. Denise looked extremely pleased, giving a small squeal before leaning forward and kissing him again. Grinning wolfishly, Juice wrapped an arm around her waist and shifted so that she was underneath him and added, "But before we go…"

It was a little over an hour later that they finally emerged from the bedroom and scrambled into the car with nearly nothing with them. They were just _going_. Both soon realized as they got on the road just before sunrise on a Sunday morning that you learned a lot about a person just observing them in a car on a long drive. Juice learned two things off the bat: first that Denise's driving was far more tolerable on the freeway (meaning that he didn't feel as though he was going to vomit every time the road curved the least bit), and that she sang in the car. Loudly. Denise in turn learned that Juice had a habit of keeping a running tally of certain things - how many cars passed whose license plates started with odd numbers, the average distance between gas stations.

What mattered most is that, distracted by other things, neither of them was currently thinking about the things they were still running away from. For Denise, however, that changed quickly when the phone in her back pocket went off. Without prompting, Juice reached over and slid his hand underneath her, pulling her phone out and looking at the screen.

"It's - your brother? Charles?" he said. "You want me to get it?"

"No!" Denise said abruptly, her hands clenching slightly around the steering wheel. "I mean - no, I'll just call him back. Later. I'll call him back later," she stammered.

Lie. Denise had hoped against all hope that the lying part was over, that she could simply _stop lying_ about everything because she'd decided to do so. She grew strangely quiet, and Juice suddenly remembered what she'd said about her brother when she'd been drunk: she _loved_ him, but she didn't _like_ him. Juice placed her phone back down in the cupholder between them and cleared his throat before Denise realized that she'd just broken her poker face. This _wasn't_ over. She would still have to square with Charles at some point, but she desperately wanted that point not to be now.

As they got further and further from home and closer to Stinson Beach, however, Denise eased back into her prior state of calm, pointing out various landmarks along the way with a strange sense of excitement.

"Do you… come here a lot?" Juice asked after a particularly long rant about a surf shop they passed as they entered town. Denise paused and laughed quietly.

"I used to. My dad and grandfather used to fish out here, and I used to like… taking pictures of stuff," she admitted, looking embarrassed by the confession. "But I haven't come back out here since… well…"

The pieces were easy enough for Juice to put together: this place had been something significant to her, and she had never come back here after her father and grandfather died, until today with _him_. That meant something, he convinced itself. It was a good thing.

Denise, for one, was thankful that she didn't need to finish her sentence. There was still too much feeling involved there - too much baggage that she wasn't quite ready to unload. It was easier to be the one who listened, who accepted, because it was a place without risk. She hadn't yet laid her cards on the table.

They pulled into the parking area for the beach, and Denise hesitantly walked out onto the walkway, staring around. It was relatively empty, considering it was well into autumn and had started to grow chilly, which Denise didn't mind at all - it made the place seem more like her own, made it seem bigger like it always used to.

"So, your dad," Juice said, following along behind her as she started walking down a slightly rocky path on the side of a hill, leading down towards a more secluded section of the beach. "What was he like?"

"Strict as _hell_," Denise chuckled, maneuvering through the jagged stones that jutted up from the ground with an expression like a child in a playground. "But - I had everything I ever wanted. Me and Charles," she explained. "Papa and grandpa always liked me better though. Said I was the less difficult one."

"You're pretty difficult to me," Juice joked, earning a good-natured glare from the woman in front of him. As she turned, however, her footing on the sand and slick rocks wavered just slightly enough to cause her foot to slide. She stumbled, and reflexively, Juice slid down a short distance to catch her.

"_Smooth_," Denise chuckled. "Thanks."

Finally, they made it down to what looked like a section of tidepools that Denise drew quickly near, crouching on the smooth flat rocks and looking into the shallow water at a cluster of abalone and starfish. "When I was little," she explained, "I used to think that you were allowed to make one wish for every starfish you saw. So this was my favorite place, because I was _sure_ that after coming here and wishing on all of these, I would get everything I ever wanted."

"You said your dad already gave you everything you ever wanted."

"Exactly," Denise laughed. "So in my mind, it _always_ worked. All the way up until…"

Realizing how many times she cut herself mid-sentence, Denise wondered if maybe it wasn't the best of ideas to come here. She was telling too many true stories, and getting too far into the truth when you were holding onto a lie was a dangerous thing.

"But you never came back since then," Juice reasoned, crouching down on the smooth rock next to her. "So you never know. Maybe it still _does_ work."

"You also believe in mermaids," Denise smirked, cocking her head to one side. Undeterred, Juice pointed at one of the starfish in the pool.

"We wish on that guy right there. The fat one," he said with a lopsided grin. "Ready?"

Just for the sake of not ruining the day, Denise obliged, shutting her eyes. She wished for a way out of this - out of the deal she had gotten into with Charles and Uncle Henry, out of her uncle's business. If she could have that, then _maybe_ she would start believing in starfish again.

"No telling," Juice grinned. "Until after it comes true."

"Deal," Denise nodded. The pair lingered around the tidepools for a few moments before finally, Denise moved first, leaning over and pressing her lips to his again before getting up and stepping away from the rock. Juice stood up as well, but instead of following, he smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until Denise realized he wasn't behind her. "Well?"

"Mine just came true."

"Yeah, because that's not cheesy at all," Denise laughed, walking back over and tugging him by the arm. "Come on."

Juice had never done things like this - longs on the beach with girls had never been something he'd really seen himself doing. But he'd gotten himself into a lot of things lately that he'd never seen himself doing, and this new start he was hoping for with Denise was more than worth trying. So, here was was - holding hands with a girl on the beach, unarmed, no kutte, no anything.

Now, Denise's phone rang again - she pulled it from her pocket and looked at the screen again with a concerned expression, giving Juice enough time to glance at it as well. Charles, again. She looked torn for a moment before saying that she was going to take the call, walking off back towards the tidepools so she was out of earshot; Juice found that he was starting to dislike Charles a little bit, even if he'd never met him. The look on her face as she walked off was less than promising.

"Charles."

"_Mei_," he said in annoyance the instant she answered the call. "What's taking you so long? Uncle is starting to -"

"I'm _done_," Denise interrupted. "I'm out. I'm not gonna help you hurt him anymore."

The silence that followed left Denise unsettled, she glanced over her shoulder in those short moments to make sure Juice hadn't followed her, then exhaled as though resigning to what came next.

"Because you've _fallen_ for him? Is that the reason?" Charles spat angrily. "Are you forgetting that he doesn't even know who you are? He doesn't even know you. How could he care about you?"

"That's not your _business_," Denise retorted, her voice angry and defensive. She wanted the person she had been for the past weeks to be the person she really was, but Charles was managing to plant doubt in her head, the way she always did.

"You're still a part of this family, and you have a _duty_ to help us when-"

"If this is the kind of family we are, I don't need it. I don't need _you_, Charles," Denise said before taking a deep breath and hanging up the phone before Charles could manage to confuse her further. She'd made up her mind. She'd done it.

The starfish _did_ still work.

* * *

><p>While Denise had walked off, Juice had pulled the new phone she had given him out of his pocket - he didn't expect that it would present him with such temptation until he was left alone with it. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Denise was still on the phone, he dialed a familiar number and waited with baited breath as it rang once. Twice. The third time was cut short, but before the voice on the other end could say 'hello', Juice hung up and stuffed it back in his pocket.<p>

He didn't need to call anyone. He didn't need to look back on any of that - he had left it all behind. Charming and the Sons were all a part of the past, and they needed to stay there.

"_Sorry_," Denise called out, stumbling slightly through the sand to catch up with him again. "Charles just… had something he needed to ask me."

The way her smile curved, Juice noticed, looked forced. False, even. But he had no place asking her why she was hiding something when he wasn't about to tell her who he'd just been trying to call.

'Everything okay?" he asked simply. She nodded and reached out for his hand again, so Juice took the hint that they should just keep walking, but he noticed one thing in particular:

Her hands were shaking.

The rest of the day had seemed to be going well until Denise and Juice's hike had taken then to a path that wrapped along a set of cliffs, separated from the edge only by a rickety fence. Juice had joked that it would suck to just _fall off_, and then Denise was silent, standing by the fence and looking out over the water. He couldn't think of anything wrong with the joke, no matter how bad hard he thought about it, but she refused to walk any further, to talk. Juice stood next to her by the fence and cleared his throat, rocking on his heels.

"I feel like there's a story here," he said with a weak laugh, but now that he was close to her, he realized that her eyes were red and slightly swollen. She was crying. _Shit_.

Denise, on the other hand, realized that there were some things she was _terrible_ at bluffing with, and there was no point now in pretending she wasn't upset about something. She'd told Charles she was out - didn't that mean she no longer needed to pretend?

"You know I said that I never came back here after they died?" she said faintly, crossing her arms around her tightly before Juice reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. She sighed, however, and stepped away so she could speak to him face-to-face. "That was a little bit of a lie," she admitted.

"I came back here the day of the funeral because - because there were just too many people. Too much talking. Too many people telling me that they were sorry, and that it was okay when it wasn't," she said with a weak laugh, looking upwards as though it would keep her from crying any more. "And… no one came looking for me. Not Charles, not anybody. And I just stood here for _hours_," she admitted. "And… and…"

Juice felt uneasy upon seeing the strange, distant expression on her face, because it was in its own way familiar, though he couldn't place why. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and took a breath before continuing.

"I wondered, if I just _jumped_, how bad would it be?" she asked, turning back towards the water. "And those rocks down there started to look pretty good. And I just… stared, and stared. I didn't even know why, I just didn't want to _be_ here anymore."

Juice covered his mouth with his hand, shaking his head - because he _knew_. He knew what it was like to be in that place, to be standing at the fence looking out at the edge, but in his case, he'd jumped while Denise had obviously stepped back. _This_ was why he met her, he surmised. Because as pocket-sized as she was, she had a fortitude that he didn't, and he needed her for it.

Denise gave a frustrated groan and shook her head fervently, practically pawing at her eyes as she wiped away the tears. Before she went through with putting on her brave face, however, Juice reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You probably think I'm _nuts_ now," she said with a sad laugh, her voice muffled as her face was buried in his shoulder.

"No - no, I get it," he answered simply, running a hand over her hair. "I get it. That's why you are the way the you are-"

"No, it's why I… was the way I was," she answered vaguely, pulling back with a weak smile. "It's not important anymore."


	13. Chapter 13

"Babe!" Juice said, standing on the other side of the bathroom door. "Front door -"

"I'm still _in_ here!"

Juice rolled his eyes slightly, though still with a concealed grin on his face. It had been three weeks now since their day trip to Stinson Beach, and since then, they settled into a surprisingly easy, balanced state of being a couple, living together in the house. Juice had since started keeping his things in the bedroom, and obviously sleeping in it. He'd started calling her _babe_ completely by accident about a week earlier, and since she didn't protest, it seemed to stick.

He walked over to the door and pulled it open - his initial impression was that there was no one in the doorway until he directed his gaze downwards to find a Chinese man in a wheelchair, who wheeled in past him.

"Uh… Denise is in the shower," Juice said feebly, closing the door behind the man. "I'm - Juan. Juan Ortiz."

The man in the wheelchair stared at him appraisingly for a short while with a strange expression, one almost of recognition, before reaching his hand out for a handshake. "Charles Kwan - her brother. You're the boyfriend, then, I assume?"

Juice looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights at the statement, but nodded mutely before he was able to speak up. "Yeah. Yeah, I am," he said as he shook Charles' hand. "She's a _great_ girl. Really, uh… responsible. Eloquent. Personable."

Just as Juice was beginning to run out of family-friendly compliments to give, Denise walked in and froze in her tracks as she saw her brother, not only because he had come unannounced, but also because she knew one thing for certain: he didn't _need_ that wheelchair. It was just a front. This was the kind of thing Charles always did. As a boy, he had loved lying. He loved exaggerating and tricking others into believing stories in order to get his way. If Denise knew him at all, she knew too that this was some sort of plot to manipulate others into doing what he wanted.

"_Gege_?" she said questioningly, still toweldrying her hair as she walked out into the living room, clad in a t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. "Why didn't you -"

"I didn't think I needed an appointment to come see my baby sister," he said with a toothy grin. "Uncle sent one of his drivers with me so I could come see you, since you haven't been home in weeks -"

"Well, that's Uncle for you, isn't it?" she said with a forced smile before clearing her throat and looking at Juice, who looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute, the longer he had to be around Charles. "I - I think we're out of coffee…"

"I'll go get it - don't worry, babe," he said eagerly. He walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek that lingered for only a second or two before walking out the door.

"_Babe_?" Charles asked with an incredulous laugh once Juice had left and shut the door behind him. He got up out of the wheelchair and closed the distance between himself and his sister, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to a spot of the room out of view of the window. "This is why you're turning you back on me? For that _thug_?" His laughter turned into a cold, humorless bark. "You were just supposed to seduce him and get the information we needed, that's all. And you weren't even woman enough to do _that_?" Denise remained quiet, and he gave her arm a sharp jerk, turning her to face him directly and using his other hand to exert a vice-like grip on her shoulder. "_Answer me_!"

But the instant he raised his voice at her, it was like a switch went on in Denise's eyes. In an instant, she had punched him square in the jaw, then maneuvered so that he was on the ground, where twisted his arm behind his back until he made an agonized noise.

"Don't forget, this damsel in distress thing is an _act_," she hissed angrily, digging her knee into his back. "You said it yourself, I'm not woman enough - so keep in mind that I won't fight you like a girl."

She let go of him, letting him droop to the ground then rush to his feet so they stood toe-to-toe again, eyes full of challenge. "_Mei_-"

"I told you, Charles," she hissed, taking a step away from him. "I'm _done_ with this. I don't care about Uncle, or the _business_. I'm out." Charles, however, paused for a moment before laughing toothily.

"Haven't you learned anything, _mei_? There's no just _getting out_."

"If I don't, then you will," Denise retorted. "_Get out_, Charles."

* * *

><p>Juice had taken the car to Target and picked up coffee as promised, but had decided to give Denise a little extra time with her brother, as he seemed to be really perturbed about the fact that she hadn't been around to visit. While Juice attempted to convince himself not to feel guilty - she'd said, after all, that she didn't particularly like being around her brother anyway - he still felt a sense of guilt at the fact that he was leaving such a <em>mess<em> in her life, when that had never been what he'd wanted to do.

So, he sat in the car and just _waited. _While he waited, he remembered the phone in his pocket and pulled it out with the intention of just playing a game for a few minutes or something until he felt reasonably certain Denise and Charles had a chance to talk. But, as he sat, the phone seemed to transmit a different suggestion to him like a signal. Just _call_, it seemed to urge. Just call…

And before he could help himself, he was calling a familiar phone number that he dialed once before on this phone back in Stinson Beach, this time sitting through the ringing until a woman's voice greeted him on the other end.

"Hi…" he said hesitantly. "It's… it's me."

There was a brief pause, and Gemma Teller-Morrow's voice returned in disbelief. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm hearing this, kid. You're - they said you -"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, his eyes suddenly glancing around nervously - this, admittedly, wasn't the reaction he'd expected. He'd expected more relief, less apprehension, from the woman upon learning he was alive. Instead, Juice noted, there was almost a sense of disappointment in her voice. "I'm not, you know, dead. I thought you should know. Chibs does," he rambled quietly. "I didn't want you to think -"

"He knows where you are?" Gemma interrupted. "Lemme send you some money -"

"No, no - I don't need anything," Juice insisted. "I've got someone looking out for me out here. I just didn't want you think that I was dead and feeling… you know, bad about it… I was worried about you. About everyone back home… I love you guys," he said frankly.

"Love you too, kid," she said after a pause. "I'm sorry that you have to -"

"Nah - I've got a good thing going out here," he said with a slight smile. "Don't be sorry."

At that, he hung up, having heard what he needed to hear - though Gemma hadn't said it in so many words, things sounded as though they'd become quieter since he left. More normal. That's what he'd wanted for everyone, anyway. They'd all moved on, and that was the signal that it was okay for him to do so as well. He couldn't do it when Charming and the Sons were all he had, but now he had someone else and had dedicated himself to holding onto whatever he had.

The car and driver in front of the house were gone by the time he arrived back home, and when he walked back through the door with the coffee in hand, he realized that Denise was cleaning something up, as though there'd been some kind of mess. Her face was slightly flushed, and she seemed to actually _jump_ when the door opened until she realized that it was him.

"Charles left?"

"Yeah - he was just swinging by before some _business_ thing with my uncle," she said with forced calm in her voice that Juice knew better than to believe, but also better than to question. "Did you get the -"

"I'll make the coffee," he said. "You have that paper to work on."

"Right," Denise smirked. "The paper I was supposed to be working on last night before you decided we had _better_ things to do."

"Exactly. That paper," Juice joked. "So I suggest you get started before I decide to distract you _again_."

The ease between them was enough to erase the concerns of moments earlier about what had happened during her brother's visit. He had started up a new pot of coffee when the phone in his pocket buzzed with a text message, which made him jump slightly before he fished it out and looked at it. Gemma.

_Sending Chibs and Unser over with some cash. Same place they saw you. No refusing._

"Who was that from?"

Juice quickly closed out of the text message when Denise turned the corner and shrugged, putting it back in his pocket. "Spam," he shrugged. "I entered one of those sweepstakes things."

"Serves you _right_," Denise laughed, rolling her eyes and turning to leave until Juice reached out, gently holding her by the elbow so she didn't leave. If they were going to help him out anyway, then maybe he could actually _do_ something for once. Even if the past month or so had been probably one of the best and most peaceful he'd had in a long while, he still had the feeling of not _doing_ anything.

"I wanna take you on a date."

"A _date_?" Denise asked incredulously, her eyebrows jumping almost comically.

"Yeah," Juice shrugged. "You know, a real date. Something nice. Friday night?"

"You're _serious_," Denise said with a sigh of realization. "Don't you think that ship has sailed a little bit? We already live together, I'm pretty sure you've used my toothbrush once or twice -"

"Nope. I _definitely_ don't use other people's toothbrushes."

"I think we're past the going on a date stage," Denise laughed gently, shaking her head. Juice, however, gently pulled her closer so that she was leaning back against the kitchen counter, and he was hovering over her, with a hand on either side of her waist.

"Can you humor me?" he asked. "I wanna do… normal _couple _shit," he added, eliciting a laugh from Denise. "Wearing a suit, going out to dinner, arguing about bills. You know."

Denise was briefly struck silent - that wasn't just couple shit. That was relationship shit. That was _commitment_ shit. There was a moment of hesitation on her part as she decided on whether or not she could make that leap, especially knowing that it was making the rift between herself and her brother even wider - but the choice was an easy one.

"Alright," she laughed, shaking her head slightly. "Friday. It's a date."

"Perfect," Juice grinned, swooping down for a kiss before scurrying out of the kitchen, leaving Denise to run off behind him in time to see him pick the car keys up off of the entertainment center.

"Where are you going?"

"Shopping. To find something to wear," he said with a charming shrug. "Gotta be on my A-game. I've got a first date with a hot girl."

And for the most part, Juice was being honest. He _was_ looking for new clothes - that just wasn't his only stop while he was out, still driving her little blue Ford Focus. After a couple of hours, he pulled about around the back of the impound lot where, as planned, Chibs and Unser were in a car waiting. Juice stepped out of the parked car and lingered, waiting for Chibs to approach. It only took a moment to realize that he had a folded up manila envelope in his hand. He handed it over to Juice, who realized that it had to contain a _fat_ stack of money.

"You look good, boy," Chibs said, looking at the younger man and the car he had come out of. "Better than I've seen you in a long time."

"Yeah," he chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Y'know… me and Denise… we're doing pretty good."

"Good. Good to hear," Chibs nodded reaching out and clapping a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Anyway, Gemma insisted I hand this over to you. She's worried about you. Sort of like having another screw-up son. More of a son than her real son -"

Chibs paused when he noticed the way Juice's expression shifted, and the way he tried to conceal it - he realized that the younger man was _trying _to get a new start, and none of this was doing him any favors. "It's not your burden to bear anymore, boy. You've got a girl to look out for now, don't you?"

The grin on Juice's face was enough proof for Chibs. He cleared his throat, then gave his shoulder another squeeze before taking a step back. "I don't think I'll be seeing you again after this, boy, so - I leave you in your ol' lady's capable hands. Denise, was it?"

"Yeah, Denise."

"She seems like a good one," Chibs nodded. "I can't stay much longer, Gemma only is able to cover me for a couple of hours."

So, that was that - no drawn out goodbyes. Both men got back into their respective cars with the understanding that they would be parting ways for good this time - absolutely for good. Juice gave a heaving sigh as he tucked the envelope of cash into the bag of clothes he'd bought. Forward was the only way to go from here - and he had a perfect first date to plan.


	14. Chapter 14

Denise honestly thought that the amount of detail and secrecy that Juice was putting into their "first date" was a little excessive, but at the same time, likely the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for her. He'd gone ahead, saying he didn't want to ruin the "surprise" of seeing him in a suit, so after class, she came home to an empty house and a note that told her where to meet him.

Galletto in Modesto. Dress up.

Denise grimaced slightly at the idea of having to dress up even more - she'd still kept up the front of dressing more femininely day to day, because here normal things were packed up and hidden away at her brother's house to keep her cover from being blown. But, she admitted, she was capable of cleaning up alright. She could admit, however grudgingly, that sometimes not _all_ of her brother's advice was entirely wrong. She had picked out a dark blue dress and a pair of heels, curled her hair, put on make up - the whole nine yards. Juice had called to let her know he'd taken a taxi out to the restaurant so she could take the car, and they'd just come home together.

Good to his word, Juice was waiting outside of the restaurant, in a grey suit that surprisingly didn't look entirely out of place on him. After parking, she stepped out of the car hesitantly, her hands clasped behind her back in a gesture that Juice knew meant that she was nervous - as if she had any reason to be. In front of the restaurant entrance, he grabbed both of her hands and squeezed them, looking her over before placing his hands gently on her face and leaning in to kiss her.

"_Wow_," he said with a lopsided grin, taking a look at her again.

"Yeah. _Wow_," Denise assented, looking him over as well. She had never been one to enjoy dates or dressing up, but if it meant seeing him like this on a regular basis - dressed up, completely focused on her, not worrying about anything else - she could learn to like it.

It was a strange feeling, going on a _nice_ date at a fancy restaurant, but at the same time, both of them found a sense of comfort in the novelty of it. Denise had grown up with her father and grandfather, fully embracing all of the things that came with being from a successful family. Papa had come to his fortune by different means than Uncle Henry - through his own business, and in managing Grandfather's investments in several hospitals and pharmaceutical companies. Uncle Henry had no interest in the many nuances of their business, and as such, had gone his own way despite Grandfather's many instances of offering him an in. It had only been after Papa and Grandfather died that Denise had_ stopped_ feeling comfortable in places like this. Being here now felt a little like coming full circle.

For Juice, the comfort came from a very different place - places like this were new, pretty much foreign. Sure, he knew enough _about_ them not to make a complete fool of himself, but they had never had a place in his life. This was starting over. This was his new beginning - and the food was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

After dinner, on the drive home, however, he revealed the news that the night wasn't quite over - he pulled up in front of a laser tag arcade closer to home, which caused a series of different reactions from Denise at once. First, there was excitement - then, there was annoyance.

"You want me to play laser tag dressed like _this_?" she said, looking down at herself. Juice paused, then laid his forehead down on the passenger's seat, laughing in embarrassment.

"I told you, I don't do this date shit," he laughed. Denise gave a small groan before swatting him playfully on the shoulder.

"Well, heels or not," she shrugged. "You're going _down_, Juice."

And at first, Juice was convinced that she was simply trying to be cute. Denise - _his_ naive, innocent Denise - wouldn't know the last thing about laser tag. He was sure that she'd probably need to be told which end of the gun to point at someone. However, once they got inside and past the looks of confusion at both of their attire, he realized quickly that she was both a decent shot, and extremely nimble on her feet. On top of that, she was also _extremely_ competitive. After being put on opposite teams for the second round of play, Juice felt the bright, neon-lit vest on his chest vibrate only a few seconds in, followed by a high-pitched yelp of laughter.

She'd shot him from behind. Chuckling, he chased her down and retaliated only after cornering her in a small corner of the playing area. By the time the game was over, Denise had broken a little bit of a sweat and earned the title of 'top gun' on her team, which she flaunted with the gesture of blowing the theoretical smoke from the barrel of the lazer gun.

"Well, I think that was romantic," Juice laughed after they had returned the equipment and headed back out to the car, holding hands and grinning as though they'd not just come out from shooting one another. They got into the car, but instead of going home, Juice pulled up next to a park - he'd scoped it out the night before to make sure it was somewhat private, less inhabited by druggies and homeless people. He reached underneath the driver's seat, and pulled out a blanket, laying it on the hood of the car and leaving the windows rolled down so that the stereo could be heard just loudly enough for them.

Denise was petite enough that she could pull herself up onto the hood of the car and sit with her legs crossed, while Juice leaned back against the front bumper in front of her. Denise wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I totally whooped your ass back there," she said, giving his shoulders a tight squeeze as he laughed at her sudden statement. "But it's okay, I'm still pretty fond of you -"

"Oh, _okay_," Juice laughed, turning around quickly and scooping her up off of the hood of the car. She yelped, clinging onto him tightly even though she knew very well that he wouldn't drop her. He finally put her back down on her feet in front of him, and noticed that she paused to look back over her shoulder. When she felt quiet, he realized it was because a song had just started playing on the radio. Denise paused as though mulling something over briefly before reaching out for his hands and grinning.

"You wanna dance? Or..."

"Miss Kwan," Juice said, pretending to be surprised. "You're being _very_ forward. It's only our first date." Still, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him and resting his forehead against hers and she crossed her arms behind his neck.

"We have a song now," Denise said with a small smile that Juice couldn't help but mirror - he had always felt like he absorbed what everyone around him was thinking, what they were feeling, and to be around someone like Denise who was so alive and so positive was something that he could finally survive off of. He tilted his head forward and kissed her fervently, gently backing her up so that the backs of her legs gently bumped the car and buckled so that she laid back against the blanket on the hood. She laughed gently and pushed her hand against his chest. "You wanna go home?" she asked with a suggestive grin.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Both Denise and Juice leapt to their feet at the sound of a voice behind the car, only dimly illuminated by the streetlights. Juice attempted to grab Denise by the wrist and pull him behind her, but she refused - she immediately _recognized_ the voice and scrambled out of Juice's grasp, moving back in front of him.

"Get _away_ from us, Charles."

"Charles?" Juice asked, looking at Denise in surprise at the fact that her brother, who had been in a wheelchair before, was walking perfectly fine now. In the dim light, a look of panic flashed across her face.

"Just come with us quietly and let _me_ handle him,_ Mei_," Charles said sternly. "And I won't tell uncle about your little hesitations -"

He strode forward and reached out, grabbing his younger sister by the forearm and attempting to yank her forward, only to be met by a sharp elbow to the face that knocked him to the ground. Juice scrambled forward to pull her back and help her, only to find that two or three others who seemed to come out of nowhere took a hold of him and yanked him back. He swung as best as he could, even while being held back, but unable to take on so many at once, especially unarmed. But _Denise_...

Charles grabbed his sister by the ankle and pulled her to the ground so that she landed hard on her shoulder, but managed to land another elbow to his stomach. Finally, he grabbed her by the hair, while he looked at the men who had a hold of Juice and nodded. Denise scrambled to get free when she saw one of the men pull out a needle to use on Juice, only to feel a needle jab into her own neck as well. She groaned and managed to squirm free of her brother's grasp, attempting to take on the men holding Juice back, who he was struggling to fight off as well.

"Dee, get outta here!" Juice said, thrashing and nearly managing to get his arm free until it was again twisted behind his back. "Get away -"

Denise knew they probably only had a few minutes tops. They couldn't drive off. They couldn't run. She already felt herself growing slightly dizzy, and she pressed a hand to her head, spinning around to look at Charles, still on the ground clutching his stomach.

"Uncle said you were supposed to take care of me," she said suddenly, her voice laced with vindictiveness - for reasons unclear, she was _important_, and if she could somehow use that, even if she had no idea why, they could get out of this. "What if I tell him you failed? You can't take Juice because I'll tell Uncle that you almost _killed _me. Do you think he'll be impressed with you, Charles?"

Denise knew her uncle Henry didn't _love_ her by any means, but he had been almost insanely protective of her since Papa and Grandfather's passing, moreso than he was of Charles. Realizing this, a look of shock and panic crossed his face - Denise used all of her willpower to stay on her own feet and not turn around when she heard a thud that suggesting that Juice had taken a knee behind her. Charles sneered and shook his head.

"Then I'm afraid that plans will have to change, _mei_ - and not in your favor."

But what these plans were and how they were meant to change, Denise would not find out before finally succumbing and crumpling into a heap on the ground.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Short chapter, I know! Just wanted to post this update before going away for the weekend. I just started working full-time this week, so updates might shift to being once or twice a week. I haven't really made the call yet._

_The next couple of chapters after this one will have a lot happening - a lot of changes occurring and truths coming out. Thank you everyone for all of your reviews and feedback - keep them coming!_


	15. Chapter 15

Charles flinched as the scotch glass that had been in Uncle Henry's hand flew across the room, crashing against the wall behind him. "What do you _mean_ you've lost her?" Henry said, looking poised to through anything else in reach.

"The SAMCRO thug disappeared with her," Charles said, raising his hands apologetically. "I should have listened to you, Uncle, she couldn't handle the job. There's no trace of _Meimei_ anywhere."

Truth be told, Charles knew where his sister was, but he knew he was no criminal. He had _panicked_, and even now was still trying to figure out what the next steps were after what he'd done out of that panic. He couldn't kill his sister - Charles had not fallen that far - but where she was, he probably should have. He planned on going back for her, of course, in hopes that she'd realize Ortiz wasn't worth giving up her family or her duty. The probability of that, however, shrank continuously the more he remained around his uncle - there was very little time to spare, and he didn't trust her to get to safety on her own.

"They've obviously taken _her_ as retaliation for our little message to them at Diosa. I don't think they realize that the value of what they've stolen from us far outweighs the value of their little whorehouse," Henry said, folding his hands in front of him. His expression didn't appear to falter much, except that his jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. "See if we can't convince them to return her."

"If they kill her -"

"Then I will need to kill _you_," Henry interrupted pointedly. "_Mei_ is the one we need, Charles. Don't forget that. We have been preparing for this for far too long now and we aren't going to lose this opportunity when we're so close to _winning_. "

Charles nodded in understanding, quavering slightly because he _had_ forgotten. He only had a vague idea of why they needed so badly to protect Denise, because he had always chosen to leave things in Uncle Henry's hands, but now he was beginning to wonder if this misinformation, combined with his latest mistake, was going to kill him. He had made a _dire_ mistake.

* * *

><p>Denise gave a small groan and felt incredibly confused at first that it was so dark, despite the fact the had opened her eyes. She squirmed slightly and realized where she was, she was on a cold floor. The were a small sliver of light entering into the dark room from a mirror high up on the wall that looked like it had been cemented over. Her eyes adjusted slowly, as did her mind to a wakeful state. It took her a few moments to realize something else.<p>

"Juice?" she called out hoarsely, met with a groan behind her. She turned around and saw him coming to slowly. She crawled over to him, but stopped short when she remembered what had happened - he'd heard _everything_ last night. Denise paused and hung back, as though coming closer to him would burn her.

"Where are we?" he groaned.

"I don't know," Denise said miserably. "But what Charles said last night. I - I lied to you -"

"Yeah, I got that much," he said, rubbing his forehead with the heels of his hands. Denise lowered her gaze miserably and shook her head, while Juice gave a humorless laugh, clumsily getting to his feet and started to pace across the small space, shaking his head.

"It was all part of a plan," Denise said weakly, which made Juice freeze in his tracks and look back over his shoulder at her in surprise where she was sitting on her knees on the floor, clearly sniffing back tears. "The van that knocked you over - it was Charles. It wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't by chance. Charles told me that if I helped him get information on… on you, on SAMCRO… he'd let me go, and I wouldn't need to be involved anymore," Denise stammered tearfully. "I just wanted him to leave me out of it, he said if I helped him, my Uncle wouldn't need anything else from me. I'd be done after this -"

"Your _uncle_?" Juice asked, walking over so that he was standing in front of her, practically hovering over her. Denise paused and looked up through red, tearful eyes.

"Henry Lin," she said quietly. "The one you framed for murder."

Juice froze again, staring at Denise like she'd just _shot_ him. He ran his hands over the sides of his head and turned away from her, unable to even look at her right now. The girl he'd fallen for had been lying to him. The girl he'd fallen for was Henry Lin's _niece_. He had framed a man for murder, and now had lost his head over the girl who could turn him in.

"So when your brother came to visit," Juice said, his back still turned to her. "He was coming to collect and you didn't give him what he wanted." He took her silence as a yes. There was a faint glimmer of hope, of happiness that she'd been loyal enough to refuse her brother for him, but even greater was his sense of confusion at everything that was happening. He'd noticed that night that she had bruises - he knew they hadn't been there before Charles had come, because he'd been in the shower with her before answering the door. He'd tried to strong arm her into giving up what she knew, and she refused. She protected him. She was looking out for him - but she had still _lied_.

"_Fuck_," he said sharply, walking over to the wall and slapping his palms against it repeatedly. Fearful that he was going to hurt himself, Denise stood up and attempted to pull him away from the wall, only to have him wheel around and shove her away, causing her to stumble back to the ground. Horrified at what he'd done, he turned around and stared at her. He was too angry to help her up, but seeing her there, seeing her on the ground because he'd _pushed _ her, seemed to flip a switch in his mind, yanking him away from the edge.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Juice, you have to believe me, I'm sorry. I told him I wanted out and that I couldn't do it anymore - I didn't think they'd do this -"

"How much of it was real?" he interrupted, his voice tight in his throat. "How much of everything you said and did was _you_?"

"I don't _know_ anymore!" Denise cried shrilly. "I thought that none of it was but then... but then I realized I wasn't even thinking about my uncle or my brother anymore. I just wanted all of it to be real. I wanted _us_ to be real, okay?"

Silence settled over the pair again, and Denise got to her feet, walking across to the other side of the room to stand underneath the blocked off window, crossing her arms over herself.

Juice felt like he should have seen something like this coming - good things had been happening for him too long now, he should have _known_ something was going to happen. He leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. Now, they were stuck. They were stuck in a cement-walled room with nothing on the walls, a small cemented-over window, and a locked steel door.

Denise, however, wandered over to another corner of the room and paused, staring up at something. A vent. Juice walked over so that he stood a few feet behind her. He would never be able to fit in a space that size, but someone Denise's size could shimmy their way _somewhere_. She gave a heaving sigh and looked over her shoulder at him.

"If I find a way out, do you believe me when I say I'll come back for you?" she said hesitantly, rubbing at her eyes. Juice gave another humorless laugh.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

The statement was like a stab in the gut for Denise, whose expression turned even sadder - for a moment, Juice felt his anger at her falter. He sighed, reaching over without warning and lifting her to give her a boost. The vent cover was old and rusted, so she was able, with some effort, to pry it off and throw it aside with a clang before climbing in.

As she crawled off, Juice began to tick off in his mind all the things that could happen to her in those vents. They could collapse on her. She could get tetanus. She could suffocate.

She could just _leave _him there.

He sat down on the floor again, leaning back against the wall and burying his head in his hands. Had he really been _that_ stupid to fall for an act? Could he believe that anything she did was real? How could he now? She could have given him up to Lin and her brother at any point, and she refused.

There was a good while of complete silence, and Juice couldn't help but wonder what the silence meant. He had to wonder, because he had no way of knowing anything for certain. It was maddening, the idea that Denise was either danger or in danger, and he was powerless to do a thing.

"_Juice?_" came a voice on the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

He leapt to his feet, looking almost shocked and worried that the female voice he heard on the other side of the steel door was an apparition. "Yeah -"

"I need to get you out, there's a wrecking team outside and I don't think I can stop them in time," she said frantically. There was a loud clang on the door - she was hitting it with something. But if there was a wrecking team already gearing up, Juice knew they could get their job done faster than she could finish hers.

"Dee, get the hell outta here -"

"_Make me_!"

There was another loud clang. Another. They repeated until finally, the doorknob fell to the ground with a clatter, and through the small hole it left, Juice could see Denise on the other side holding some kind of support beam. Tiny as she was, she rammed into the now compromised door with her shoulder, dislodging it just enough so that Juice could pull it from the doorjamb. The pair stared at one another only for a moment before he grabbed her hand and they began racing through the old condemned building for the first exit, hearing the first bangs that meant the upper levels were beginning to be dismantled.

Denise was struggling to keep up, now barefoot but still clad in the dress from last night. Clearly, an escape hadn't been part of Charles' plan, but the fact that he even had one was a one up on them. They got out into daylight by breaking through the first window they came across after struggling up a dank stairwell, and Juice realized that while he was sore and aching, Denise was pretty scratched and bruised up as well. He had to help her clear a chainlink fence, just as they heard the building behind them creak - a section of it caved with a loud rumble just above where they'd been. Making their way into another back alley nearby, they paused. Denise fell back against the brick wall, panting heavily and cradling one of her arms. In ramming into the door, she'd hurt the shoulder she'd already fallen on last night during the scuffle with Charles.

"You should've just done your goddamn job," Juice said, storming off ahead of Denise down the alleyway but unable to actually leave her behind completely. She sneered slightly, and stormed up behind him - Juice could feel her own frustration percolating behind him even as he continued his own rant. "It would've been easier if you'd just _done your job_ and gotten it over with -"

"I wanted out!" she hissed, struggling to keep her voice down. "I wanted out at least a _month _ago - do you think it's _easy_ to just up and decide you want out of something like this? I was _stupid_, I thought that if I just wanted it enough, if I just held my ground and said I was done and didn't want to hurt you, everything would work out because I was doing something _good_. I thought that as long as I was doing it to protect someone I care about, everything would just fall into place, and I was _wrong_ okay?"

This was enough to stop Juice in his tracks - this train of thought was just so _familiar_, he understood it so well, but to hear it coming from Denise and not from him was jarring. Terrifying. He slowly turned to face her, deciding now that even if he could barely stand her, he couldn't just leave her like this. He opened his mouth to speak, only to find that she held her hand up to silence him.

"We're _fucked_!" she said in a tight, breathless voice, picking up her pace and walking past Juice in frustration. "My brother apparently thinks I'm better off dead, we're -"

She was cut off when suddenly, Juice had picked her up off of her bare feet and put her down in a different spot. She blurted out a few expletives in frustrated confusion before looking to where she had been walking and seeing that he had just stopped her from walking on a pile of broken glass. She fell silent, looking down at the ground until she noticed him holding his shoes out to her.

"You took care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you, okay?" he said, leaving her stunned. "Put 'em on before you cut your feet open, and we'll keep walking. Your brother probably thinks we're dead, and we need to take advantage of that."

"So, just so I'm up to speed - everyone thinks you're dead. My family thinks I'm dead," she said, crouching down and tying the shoes onto her feet despite the fact that they were several sizes too large for her. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the house to get some shit," he said, reaching out and grabbing her good arm, carefully avoiding whatever was strewn on the ground now that he was only in socks as they made their way through backroads without peering onto the main streets - Denise pointed the way with relative prowess, despite not traveling them much, but as the turned the last corner ahead of Juice, she paused and abruptly turned back, shoving him back into the side street, shaking her head. She made a hushing gesture before nodding towards the corner.

"_There's nothing out of place, Mr. Lin - no note, nothing."_

"_Then we'll need to find her elsewhere. They must have found out something. She must have let it slip, or the thug found out she was worth something - I don't know how, but I know those thugs have ears everywhere."_

"_So we're… going after her?"_

"_No. We're going to wait for them to make a move - and if they harm her, if they jeopardize our business, we'll wipe them out."_

Denise clasped a hand over her mouth - she didn't know what any of this meant, but she knew at least that her Uncle Henry was looking for her, and not out of concern. It was easy enough to put two and two together. Charles had lied to protect himself - he'd made it look like Juice had run off with her somewhere, and now, there was no way they could go home. Immediately, he clasped his hand back around her wrist and darted off with her in the opposite direction until they could no longer hear Lin and his men's voices, stopping in a gap between pillars of an overpass and sitting in the dirt to catch their breath.

It was only now that Juice got a really good look at the girl in front of him and realized that despite all of the things she had hidden from him, he suddenly felt that much more attached to her because she was _trapped_ in a way that he understood all too well. Her hair was a mess, her makeup from the night before had formed dark circles around her eyes, and her skin was covered in goosebumps.

"C'mere," he said grudgingly, holding out his arm and moving over so she could curl into him for warmth, which she willingly did, shaking slightly. Juice pressed his lips to her temple and let out a sigh. They were screwed. They were _very_ screwed.

"Uncle Henry thinks you kidnapped me," Denise spoke up shakily, her expression blank. "And he thinks he knows exactly where you'd take me. He said he wouldn't make the first move because he doesn't want a confrontation I might get caught in the middle of-"

"No. I see where this is going, Dee -"

"That means if we went back to Charming, he wouldn't come looking for us there. Not now, anyway -"

"I'm not taking you back there, you can't do that," Juice said, his face once again screwed up in concern. "There's no guarantee that nothing's gonna happen to me, and if anything does, I don't know what happens to _you_ -"

"Don't you get it?" Denise said shrilly. "Do you realize who I am? _What_ I am? I can be your peace offering. I can be your leverage -"

"_Hell_ no!" Juice interrupted, accidentally giving the young woman next to him a small fright. He clenched his teeth, breathing deeply through his nostrils for a moment before shaking his head again. "Just - just listen to me, alright. You don't know what you're doing here."

_Neither do you_, Denise thought to herself, but she nodded anyway. Arguing would do them no good right now, not in the position they were in. What _did_ have the potential to do some good, however, was Denise's newfound knowledge that whatever Uncle Henry wanted from her, it was important, and when you had something that others wanted, that was power. That was security…

...and Denise knew that if she was in a position to use that power, if it meant changing their situation, she would do it.


	16. Chapter 16

Denise struggled with accepting 'no' for an answer - this was in fact one of the most vital pieces of information to have about her. So, yes, Juice had told her not to go through with her idea of going back to Charming, but she was not about to concede that it was a bad idea. She was never in her uncle's inner circle by any means, but she knew that he made his share of enemies, and if SAMCRO was indeed one of those enemies, then she would be leverage enough.

Once he was out cold, Denise realized something - her brother was not an experienced criminal. He was sloppy. It was possible he hadn't searched them before throwing them into the basement of that condemned building, and she knew that Juice kept his things in a very unusual place.

She had to steady her hands and work quickly - but her nimble hands paid off as she realized that the phone she had given him was indeed tucked into his pants.

It was easy enough to figure out which number to call, considering there were few in the phone besides her own. It was a shot in the dark, but they couldn't stay here. She was admittedly surprised, however, when a voice answer the phone - a woman's voice, and not the voice of Chibs, the man Juice had led to the house that night weeks ago. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Juice was still sleeping in the same spot and walked off just far enough to be out of earshot.

"My name is Denise Kwan… Juice and I need help…"

* * *

><p>Denise didn't know what to expect in the hours to come - she had gotten off of the phone with the woman, who had asked exactly where they were and said someone would come to get them as soon as she could figure things out. The instant Denise had mentioned that she was niece of Henry Lin, and that she knew <em>everything <em>about Juice, the woman's interest was quickly attained.

Denise immediately felt uneasy, but hurried back over to where Juice was sleeping, tucking his phone back where she'd gotten it and pretending she'd not gone anywhere.

The hours passed slowly, and Denise was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't have believed in what the woman on the phone said - she'd just been desperate. However, right around the two hour mark while Juice was still sleeping, she saw a car pull up just down the way, and a familiar figure stepped out of the driver's seat.

Hesitantly, Denise walked off on her own again to meet the man called Chibs, who now looked at her with a scrutiny that had been absent before.

"Henry Lin's _niece_," he said with a slight sneer, causing Denise to look down in shame, nodding almost imperceptibly. "You realize that this ends with us killing your family for what they did?"

Denise flinched - a part of her wanted to believe it was out of remorse, out of knowledge that her family hadn't done what they believed. But in truth, it was only because she hadn't personally considered herself accountable for her decisions. It almost felt better to be a pawn, because it purged her of responsibility.

"Gemma is telling Jax to expect you as we speak. The both of you. She decided it would be best not to spring this on him with things being as… never mind -"

"_No_," Denise said, her brow furrowing. "I want to know what I'm getting into."

"Last week, your uncle - his men slaughtered an entire establishment. You'll hear about it, no doubt," Chibs said in a low voice. "Jax is out for blood twice as hungry now, and I don't want you to harbor any delusions that your involvement in his plans is going to be easy…"

Denise looked up from the ground, crossing her arms over herself and nodding.

"I need you to be sure that you're going through with this because without you, the boy is dead -"

"Dee?"

Denise and Chibs both turned and found that Juice had already gotten up and was running over, looking between the two of them before finally resting his gaze on Denise with a particularly affronted expression. "Dee, what the hell did you do? I told you, you can't -"

"I can and I did. It's too late," she said calmly, looking him in the eye with determination. "Someone's going to get their hands on us eventually, and I need to make sure it's not my uncle."

"You're gonna get the both of us _killed_ -"

"If you back out now, then it's _my ass_ for failing to bring you back. I can't let either of you run now," Chibs said, his brow furrowing. "Jax knows you're both coming back to Charming, boy. It's too late. He's agreed to see you because you're bringing _her_."

Juice's face seemed to grow blank in disbelief - Denise shouldn't have been doing this. He didn't _want_ her to be the bargaining chip. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, while he sat in that basement in the abandoned building. He wasn't dumb enough not to realize the purpose she could serve. But now, he couldn't look at her as he got into the passenger seat of the car Chibs had brought out - Juice knew he didn't _want_ it to play out this way. He thought he would have been willing to give up anything to get right with Jax, but somehow, it didn't seem worth it anymore.

Denise sat alone in the back seat of the car all the way back to Charming, a shorter drive than she'd expected from her home in Stockton - it was strange to believe that for all this time, she and Juice had been so near to one another, and had now been thrown together like _this_. She tried to keep from looking out the windows at all, stealing only a few glances at her surroundings until they pulled up in front of a house, where an older woman was waiting outside. Juice hesitated before stepping out of the car, where the woman immediately greeted him by wrapping her arms around him. Chibs, who had stepped not stepped out of the car, looked on with slight discomfort before nodding for Denise to step out as well before driving off.

"The boys are at school, Jax is inside. He - he wants to talk to you," the woman said. Denise hung back in slight discomfort until she, too, was addressed. "Gemma," he said, holding her hand out for the young woman to shake. Her eyes were sharp and appraising, knowing that this was the girl who had been looking out for Juice. She had been so _honest_ over the phone, and Gemma knew who she was by now. Denise's arrival was the only thing that made Jax amenable to these negotiations - to letting Juice back into Charming without killing him on the spot. Denise shakily reached out and shook her ring-clad hand. Juice let out a noise that sounded almost like exasperation - he still couldn't believe what she had done, but knew that it was too late. He could run, he thought briefly. But running would mean leaving Denise here with them, and he knew that even an innocent woman wasn't guaranteed safety here. Not anymore.

"I'm Denise," she nodded weakly. Gemma ushered the pair inside, and the instant she opened the door, the blonde-haired young man sitting in the living room got to his feet, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Juice, who nearly jumped backwards until Gemma put a hand on his shoulder and held him in place. Now, even Denise began to have doubts about her own decision, realizing that Jax's anger ran deeper than she had first imagined. Gemma soon nudged her forward ahead of Juice, towards Jax - Juice had to clench his fists at his sides to keep from leaping to pull her away.

"Jax, this is the girl I was telling you about. Juice brought her," Gemma said. Denise shook slightly, but reached her hand forward to shake his. Jax looked at her hand questioningly and surprisingly, he actually _smiled_ at her, shaking her hand firmly.

"You don't need to be afraid of me - we're just going to talk a little business, Miss Kwan. I just need to clear up a few things first," he said with a lopsided, deceptively casual grin. "Gemma, would you take her to get cleaned up? Let the men talk a little?"

Denise looked back with only barely-concealed terror at Juice as Gemma ushered her away from the living room to the washroom, but could do nothing to resist. As soon as Denise had left the room, Jax lumbered over so that his face was only inches away from Juice's.

"I'm _not_ going to kill you," he said with a smirk. "But if you think that you can just come back here nice and simple, you're very, very wrong. You've still gotta get right with me -"

"Okay," Juice said, looking down at the floor. "Okay. Brother, I swear -"

"You're no brother of mine," Jax interrupted pointedly. "Let's make that very clear. Just because I let you live doesn't mean you're my brother. You have a debt to pay. Henry Lin's niece, though? A good start. A _very_ good start," he said, taking a couple of steps back and pacing slightly. Juice felt himself shaking, knowing that this wasn't a good sign from Jax. He was restless. something was about to happen. "But there's one more very crucial thing I want from you."

"Yeah. _Anything_…"

"We've intercepted some intelligence that Lin's operation is counting on something called _meimei - _as far as we know, it's a drug deal that we need to intercept," Jax continued, gesturing with his hands as he went on pacing the small patch of floor. "When you can get me the details of what _meimei_ is and how I can get it, we'll consider your debt paid. But until then…"

Suddenly, Juice was thrown backward as Jax's fist collided with his face. He let out a string of curses, clutching his face while Jax pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, shoving him across the room. This was the plan, he realized. Jax was going to make him suffer until he got what he wanted. Still slightly stunned, he braced himself for another hit, only to realize that Denise, who had left the room just long enough to wash her face before darting past Gemma in the hallway and back to the living room and standing in front of him. Caught offguard by her return, Jax took a step back, rubbing his knuckles slightly.

"Stop it!" she said hoarsely, just as Gemma hurried back into the room after her, attempting to pull her away again.

"Sweetheart, come on - you don't understand what's going on," she said, giving the girl's arm a yank, but to no avail. "This isn't _your_ business, this is just how-"

"You said that once you knew what Meimei was, once you _had_ it, you were even," Denise said breathlessly, looking up at Jax with a fierce glint in her eyes. Juice clenched his fist up to his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, you're even."

"What do you mean?"

"_I'm Meimei_," Denise said fearlessly, prompting Juice to grab her arm as well and try to pull her back. Jax, however, eyed her with a look of surprise, taking a few steps closer to her. "My family calls me _Meimei_. I don't know what I have to do with any of this, but it's me you're looking for."

Jax clasped his hands in front of his mouth, taking a few more paces while Juice and Gemma looked back and forth between Denise and one another in response to what she'd done. Denise simply looked confused at Jax's lack of response. "I'll do anything you need me to do, just -"

"You don't want me to lay a hand on Juice again? You have a deal," he said, suddenly shifting his expression to a slight smile, walking over to the nearby dining table and pulling out a seat for her. "But I want to have a chat with you, Miss Kwan. About business. Have a seat."

Feeling that she had no choice, she took the offered seat so that she was sitting directly in front of Jax, while Juice and Gemma each took a seat on the other side of the table. Juice looked pale, almost as though he was going to be nauseous, while Gemma's face remained stony - both realized that what they'd done played a large part in this. If they hadn't framed the Chinese, perhaps Denise wouldn't be such a hot commodity. But the Chinese had already retaliated - shots had been fired, and everything was going to hell, whether anyone knew the truth or not. Juice wanted on some level to be _happy_ that Denise had flat out said she would do anything for him - something that none of the Sons, _no one_ had ever been willing to say on his behalf - but he didn't want her to.

"So," Jax said, leaning forward onto his elbows to look the petite woman in front of him in the eye. "Tell me about yourself, Miss Kwan."


	17. Chapter 17

"_So," Jax said, leaning forward onto his elbows to look the petite woman in front of him in the eye. "Tell me about yourself, Miss Kwan."_

Denise glanced across the table briefly at Juice, who was nursing a growing red mark just under his eye, over his cheekbone where Jax had hit him. But even through the rising swelling, he couldn't help but look at Denise with a child-like fear, knowing that this had all fallen out of his control. _Again_. Seeing that she had no choice but to talk, that was exactly what she did - not the pleasant, aimless ramblings that Juice had come to appreciate from her, but direct truths that she had only scratched the surface of in the month they'd known one another. Juice found it almost difficult to listen.

She talked about her father and grandfather, about their business and Uncle Henry's refusal to get involved because it involved more hard work than he was willing to put in - _clean_ hard work that he knew nothing about.

"I never met Uncle Henry until after Papa and Grandfather died. He'd never been interested in meeting me," Denise said vaguely. "I'd heard about him - it broke Grandfather's heart that his own son refused to be involved in the business with him. He was always more interested in my brother, Charles - insisted on meeting him, but never me. Charles hero-worshipped him, even before."

"Your name is Denise Kwan - is that your real name?"

"It is - my father was… he had a different mother," Denise continued uncomfortably. "But Grandfather came to live with us after he and Uncle Henry had a falling out over money. I never really understood. Papa and Grandfather built their business together - and then the accident happened…"

It was at this point that Juice had to clench his fists under the table to keep himself from speaking up, because he knew that this was the part that Denise wouldn't want to talk about - because this was the part of her life that she'd barely talked about to _him_, and a small part of him felt that Jax Teller had no place learning all this about her so quickly. Juice felt almost resentful of the fact that it had taken him weeks to get her to let her guard down, even if he hadn't known it at the time, and Jax somehow could simply waltz in and get any truths that he wanted.

"That was when Uncle Henry started coming to visit Charles and I - me, especially," Denise continued, beginning to sound more and more unsure of herself as she recounted her past with her family. "He was the one who told me about how… Grandfather set aside money for us, and that he'd take care of everything to make sure it lasted," Denise continued, as if things were starting to come together in her mind in a way they hadn't before. A silence settled again over the table while Denise stared down at her hands. Jax, on the other hand, had his gaze pinned directly on Denise Kwan - the wheels in his head had been turning over the course of her entire story, and he had a feeling he knew _why_ Henry Lin became so interested in his niece.

"Did your grandfather have a lawyer? Anyone who handled his affairs?"

"Attorney Horkowitz, yeah," Denise nodded. "I was never allowed to talk to him - they said I wasn't good enough with money to understand. They said I was… entitled to being taken care of. Not worrying. Uncle Henry took care of all of that."

And that seemed to do it. Jax nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair, breathing through his nostrils.

"You two should get some rest," he said, gesturing vaguely between Denise and Juice. "Tomorrow, we're going up to see this Attorney Horkowitz. Juice and I will watch your back, and you're going to get some answers for me. Does that sound… _alright_, Denise?"

This time, as much as Juice attempted to catch her eye and tell her not to agree, to just let him deal with the consequences so she could get away, she refused to look at him. She'd made up her mind on her own.

"I'm down," Denise nodded shortly. Jax gave a lopsided grin for a moment at her willingness to cooperate with him before looking towards Gemma and nodding towards the door.

"You mind keeping an eye on these two for me? Taking them back to Juice's place and hanging around there?" he asked. At the surprised expression on Denise's face, he held up his hand plaintively. "Just can't risk you running off. You understand," he said. Denise nodded hesitantly.

The ride in Gemma's backseat to Juice's place felt long, mostly because the surroundings were unfamiliar - but she was sure she'd spotted it at the end of the block because it was the house in the worst disarray from not having been lived in for months. Gemma pulled up in front of the house and nodded towards the door, reaching into her purse and pulling out a key.

"I'll give you two a while, pick you up some groceries and shit. You're probably starving," Gemma said sternly. "And I think you two have got plenty to talk about without me snooping around."

Denise got out of the back of the car and followed a few steps behind Juice, who opened the front door and let out a few curses at the sight of his house covered in dust. Denise shut the door behind her and sighed slightly, more than prepared when Juice turned around now that he finally had her alone.

"I can't believe you did this, Dee," he said, scratching the back of his neck, then slapping his hand against the back of his sofa. "I told you - I didn't wanna bring you here. I told you, we weren't coming back to Charming -"

"I owed you this one," Denise said, her expression said as she began wringing her hands in front of her. "I caused this for you, the least I can do is fix _one_ of your problems - just one -"

"So you pick the one that requires you to sell your soul to Jax? Of all the things? Of all _fucking_ things?" Juice asked, shaking his head incredulously. "This was wrong. It was a very _wrong_ decision. Babe - Gemma won't be back for a while, we could still make a break for it -"

"_No_." Denise insisted steadily. "We're not running, we're going to figure this out. We bury the past _now_."

Juice groaned, walking away further into the house while Denise followed him as he entered the bedroom, sitting down on his old bed with a small cloud of dust. In order to avoid having to talk for a short few minutes, he yanked the dust-laden sheets off of the bed and began replacing them with a spare set that was sitting in the closet in a plastic bag. Denise stood in the doorway silently until he was finished. He looked down at his shirt - still the collared shirt he'd been wearing with his suit on their _date_, which felt like it had been ages ago. He gave a slight huff as he unbuttoned it, taking it off so that he was in the undershirt inside it.

He reached into his drawers, with everything still folded and sorted the way he'd always done it, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, tossing them in Denise's direction. He sat down on the bed while Denise changed, hunching forward tiredly and shaking his head as Denise sat down on his bed next to him.

"You don't wanna get pulled into this life," he said feebly to which Denise responded by reaching out and squeezing his hand, which drew his gaze up to hers. She smiled weakly.

"If it's a life that you're in, I'm in too."

Juice gave a choked laugh before clasping his other hand over hers, raising them to his lips and lingering there for a moment before she pulled her hands away, reaching over to cup his face instead. She adjusted herself that her legs were on either side of him on the bed, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"I'm _sorry_," she spoke up finally, her warm fingertips kneading slightly into his shoulders. Juice sighed, looking down - was it so bad that he just didn't want to talk about what she was apologizing for anymore? "Juice, listen," Denise insisted. "I'm sorry for how all of this played out. But everything that happened, it was real. If it wasn't real, we wouldn't be here right now."

"I know," he nodded, shifting so that he was able to wrap his arms around her small waist. "You don't have to explain anything to me anymore, okay? I get it. I just need to know… I need to know that this is the real you now."

"The real Denise isn't anything special."

"The real Denise kicked her brother's ass, escaped a building through a vent, busted in a steel door, and made a deal to take down a Chinese crime ring, all within twenty-four hours," Juice chuckled tiredly. "I think that's pretty special."

"I'm not the person you thought I was," she said weakly. "I'm not as soft or as _good_ as the girl you fell for."

"I never thought you were soft," Juice said. "I looked through your stuff that first time you left me in the house - I knew your dad and your grandpa died, and that they were really important to you, and.. and -"

"Why don't you _hate _me right now?" Denise asked, her forehead wrinkled in questioning. "You should hate me by now and that's what scares me."

"I have no right to hate you - you never _made_ me stay," Juice said, drumming his fingers on her hips and looking down at the floor. "I always stayed because I wanted to be around you. To be _with _you, I guess…"

When no further response came from Denise, Juice looked up and found that she was blinking back tears. He let out a sigh, shifting and bringing her along with him so that they were laying side by side on the bed facing one another. He lifted a hand to push her hair from her face before pressing his lips to hers slowly.

He'd meant it to be a _comforting_ kiss, but after the past day and everything that had happened, he found that the warmth of her lips already practically made him dizzy already. Juice draped an arm over her waist and pulled her body tightly against his - her hand automatically went up to undo the fastening on the waist of his pants, deftly undoing both the button and zipper before pulling them downwards needily.

"You know, this is like a whole new kind of _hot_," Juice chuckled, moving his lips down her throat as he moved and kicked off the pants that had, admittedly, already been extremely uncomfortable anyway. Very star-crossed, Romeo and Juliet -"

"Don't say Romeo and Juliet in bed," Denise said breathlessly before hooking her thumbs under the bottom of his undershirt. Juice retaliated, pulling off first the sweatpants and then the shirt he had given her, revealing a matching set of red lace underwear that she must have been wearing under her dress the entire time.

"Why not?" Juice asked, his eyes and hands roving slowly over her body now that they were both only in underwear. "It's romantic."

"They end up _dead_," Denise said, pulling away and shifting so she was sitting next to Juice, who was still laying on his side.

"Well, in West Side Story, only one of them dies. I figure this time around, neither of us dies, and it's just a feel good movie all around," he smirked. With a slightly evil grin, Denise leaned forward and playfully bit him, sinking her teeth into his earlobe. "Whoa, babe, I didn't mean _that_ kind of feel-good movie."

"Are you saying no?" she laughed breathily with her lips still pressed against the tender skin on the side of his neck. Juice gave a slight growl of a noise, suddenly shifting so that he was on top of her.

"You're asking for it now," he smirked before wolfishly claiming her lips as his own. There was nothing wrong, they both decided in that instant, about forgetting about everything that was happening for at least a short while.

About an hour later, when they were both slightly damp with sweat and covered only with a bedsheet, Denise had understandably fallen asleep with her head on Juice's chest as he looked down at her, looking peaceful for the first time in a while. And then, it hit him. When they'd been stuck in that basement, he'd mulled over the possibility of getting away from her before things got too messy. Now, however, it was too late. There was one simple yet ever so sticky detail that made the mess unavoidable.

He was in _love_ with her.


	18. Chapter 18

It was still dark out when Juice was roused from his sleep by a knock on his bedroom door. _Gemma_. he looked down at Denise, who was still peacefully asleep in his arms and felt a strange, sick sensation at the idea of leaving her here to go talk to Gemma, even if there was nothing necessarily malicious or dishonest about it. Denise knew about the secret he and Gemma were hiding about Tara - it wasn't about that. It was more that Denise was working so hard to help him get away from all of this, and he was still somehow drawn to it. He slowly slipped his arm out from underneath Denise, pulled on some clothes, and walked towards the door, careful to avoid allowing the hinge to squeak as he opened it.

"You wanna join me for a smoke, kid?" Gemma asked, looking extremely tired. With a brief glance back at Denise, who had now curled up onto her side and continued sleeping without so much as opening her eyes, Juice nodded and followed Gemma out to the front door.

Being alone with Gemma Teller-Morrow was still the same as always - always accompanied with the feeling of being at the edge of something dangerous and explosive. Juice accepted a cigarette and a light from her, taking a long drag and realizing how long it had been since he'd had a smoke. He unintentionally gave a relieved sigh - it admittedly felt _good_. He needed a smoke after everything that had happened.

"Your ol' lady's a real babydoll," Gemma chuckled, shaking her head. Juice had to keep from flinching upon hearing Denise referred to as his _ol' lady_, when he'd wanted more than anything to keep her from becoming part of the world in Charming that had once meant _everything_ to him. Gemma noticed his conflicted expression and took a drag herself before changing the subject.

"Does she know that we're going to kill her family?" Gemma asked. Juice simply nodded. "Does she know that we're killing them for something they -"

"Something they didn't do? Yeah. She knows," Juice said shortly, suddenly feeling incredibly paranoid and glancing over his shoulders as though someone was nearby. The more he thought about Denise _knowing_ the secret, about actively playing a part in keeping it, the sicker he felt - like the world was becoming a smaller and smaller place, and there were fewer and fewer places for them safely to remain in it.

"It looks like she took good care of you," Gemma said genuinely - Juice wasn't the same unhinged _boy_ that he was when he'd left Charming before. She had been worried that he was going to lose it, that he'd already_ lost_ it and was a liability she couldn't afford. But now, he seemed to have a handle on their secret. It came as a relief - because if she'd had to, no matter how thankful she was to him for covering for her, she'd have made sure he kept his mouth shut.

"She wants out of that family that bad," Juice said disdainfully through the thin veil of smoke from his last drag. Gemma, tongue-in-cheek, nodded almost incredulously.

"So bad that she wants to get pulled into this one?"

"Wasn't my idea."

"I know that look," Gemma said with raised eyebrows, eyeing Juice closely when he reacted to the idea of Denise being involved in whatever was happening in Charming. "The last time I saw it, it was on my son's face. You love this girl."

Juice didn't say anything as he took another particular deep drag, shrugging as though he hadn't thought about it. "I shouldn't," he finally replied. "If I do, what if she ends up like…"

Gemma easily understood his silence. What if Denise ended up like Tara? Touche. She shrugged wordlessly. She knew that this fear wasn't the only one on Juice's mind at the moment. She had a feeling - Juice was terrified because he didn't want to risk admitting it, because Denise hadn't yet said it either.

"She _loves_ you, kid," Gemma finally spoke up, causing Juice to almost drop his cigarette as though his mind had just been read. Gemma laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I can read a woman a mile away - and lemme tell you. I can tell from the fear of God in her eyes when she was talking to Jax, she knows that she's sticking her neck out for you. You don't do that for someone you don't love."

Juice used his free hand to cover his mouth, to cover up the fact that he was smiling. It looked as though he was trying to physically wipe the expression from his face and admittedly, it was good to see him looking somewhat normal. The pair remained in silence as each finished up their cigarette, and as Gemme put hers out under the heel of her boot, she look at Juice and nodded. "I'm driving you all up to San Francisco while the boys are at school ...to see that attorney in the morning," she explained. "You should get some rest. Jax has a feeling that it's going to be big."

That was what Juice was afraid of.

He went back inside, brushed his teeth twice, and washed his hands twice before going back to bed - once his weight caused the side of the mattress to dip, Denise reflexively rolled over and curled into his side again. Juice leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead, and she smiled for a few moments before her snoring resumed. Was it true, he wonder? Did Denise love him back? Assuming one way was terrifying, and the other, equally so.

He soon fell asleep for a good few hours before waking up yet again - and still, Denise was out like a light. Apparently, Gemma had popped in at some point while they were sleeping and left a folded up set of clothes on the desk for Denise, who had nothing except the dress she'd shown up in. Spotting them, Juice reached over and shook her shoulder, causing her to swat at him sleepily.

"Gemma brought you some clean clothes," he said. "I figured you might wanna get into them."

Denise sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and pulling the covers up with her before glancing across the room at the clothes. Allowing the sheet to fall off of her, she stood up and walked across the room to grab them - Juice had to pinch himself a little to keep from getting ideas, knowing they had a job to do today.

He was so distracted that he hardly realized Denise had already gotten dressed until she stood in front of him with a grimace on her face. "I look like a child in this," she said skeptically, holding her arms out so it was very clear that she was a much shorter, much tinier woman than Gemma, because the arms and legs of her clothes were so much longer. Juice snickered as Denise rolled up the sleeves of the back button-up shirt, looking down at herself again.

"No. No, _babe_ - it's cute," Juice snickered, prompting her to roll her eyes, walking over and swatting him on the shoulder before pulling him out of bed as well.

When they emerged from the room, however, they found that both Jax and Gemma were already in the living room waiting for them. Denise paused, reaching up and smoothing out her hair and looking back over her shoulder at Juice.

"You two ready?" Gemma asked. But whatever the answer was, it didn't really matter. They'd be going, no matter what.

The drive down to San Francisco was long and uncomfortably silent, but made somewhat easier by the fact that she was next to Juice in the back seat this time, while Jax sat in the passenger seat with his mother. Juice spent most of the drive clasping her hand, just as much for his own security as hers.

The Horkowitz and Halliday firm was located on the eleventh floor of a high-rise in the business district, a very unfamiliar atmosphere for all of them - but an old, salt-and-pepper haired man recognized Denise quickly when she entered the business suite, spotting her even before she reached the front receptionist with Juice and Jax accompanying her.

"Miss Kwan - what a surprise! I actually just asked one of my paralegals to get in touch with you, but we haven't been able to reach you, he said, gesturing for her to come back. His eyes, however, rested on the tattooed men behind her, who stuck out like sore thumbs in the stark, almost sterile atmosphere of the office. "Are these gentlemen -"

"My boyfriend and my… friend," Denise said with a smooth smile. "You know how it is, girl like me walking alone in the city. They're a little overprotective," she grinned with a shrug. Horkowitz glanced them over and decided the explanation was good enough for him, waving them along to follow as well. "Were you calling me about - about the money?" Denise asked as they entered his office. Denise sat down in the biggest chair, and Horkowitz gestured for his secretary to bring in additional chairs from the waiting room. "Charles said the living expenses account was running little low?"

"Well, I'm not the executor of that account," Horkowitz shrugged, "But it could very well be below what it originally was. You shouldn't be too concerned, though. Your brother has his business, and you have the trust fund -"

"_Trust fund_?"

Denise's eyes widened, and she looked back and forth between Juice and Jax, who had now taken a seat on either side of her. Juice's expression was one of confusion, Jax's, one of fascination. This was _definitely_ interesting.

"Henry and Charles didn't tell you?" The attorney asked, his brow furrowing deeply. Denise looked somewhere between anger and nausea, but sat still in her seat, absorbing the information as it came. "They told me weeks ago you'd be coming in with them to make sure everything was squared away -"

"Squared away for what?"

Horkowitz turned and reached for a file he had put onto the nearby shelf, placing it down on the desk in front of Denise, drumming his fingers on it hesitantly. "Your father and grandfather both specified that their estate be divided - ten percent to Henry Lin, ten percent to a living expenses account for yourself and your brother -"

"We've been living off of that money for _years_," Denise said incredulously, leaning forward slightly on the desk. If that was _ten_ percent…

"The other eighty percent was specifically held in trust for _you_, until your twenty-fifth birthday, that's why I was trying to reach you," Horkowitz said, looking clearly dumbfounded that Denise didn't know about any of this. "It was left in your father's high-yield business account, but this is the latest balance."

Horkowitz opened the folder and pulled out the slip close to the top, a printout of a statement which he flipped to be right-side up for Denise, who quickly gasped at the total, circled in blue pen at the bottom: $171,840,000.

"One-hundred seventy _million_ dollars? Are you _shitting_ me?" Denise burst out suddenly, looking up with an expression of extreme shock. Jax couldn't hold back a grin at the sight of the number, which he glanced as well before leaning back in his chair.

"I can't believe your brother never told you," Horkowitz said carefully. "Your father and grandfather's investments in hospitals and pharmaceuticals were _substantial_, they were one of our biggest clients."

While Jax seemed gleeful at what he'd now gotten his hands on, knowing that _Meimei_ was in their control, Juice noticed from the corner of his eye the sick expression on Denise's face as all of this ran through her head. Horkowitz noticed the obvious tension in Denise's expression and cleared his throat, rising from his seat. "I actually have some papers for you to sign to make sure everything is squared away. Your twenty-fifth birthday is just around the corner, so it's good you came in."

He got up and left, shutting the door behind him so Denise, Jax, and Juice were left alone in the office in their chairs. Finally feeling free from the suit-clad attorney's almost comically reactive gazes, Denise practically crumpled, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her. Juice could hardly bare to look at Denise, knowing he would be met with _that_ look - the one of uncertainty and anger and fear that had plagued her face for days. Jax, however, kept his gaze on the young woman, his lips curling into a slight grin.

This changed _everything_, he realized, and it was working in his favor.

"Why would he hide that from me?" she asked, shaking her head incredulously. "I don't understand…" It was strange, not being elated out of her mind to find out she was inheriting _that_ kind of money, but it was trumped by the fact that it had been hidden from her. "Charles said the money was going to run out -"

"For _him_. And for Lin," Jax spoke before Juice could find anything to say - he had forgotten just how overpowering Jax's presence could be. "That's why they were trying to keep you close, to convince you that you needed them because they need _you_. You're the only one who can touch that money -"

"They _used_ me," Denise said, sitting up and running her hands through her slightly matted hair. Her fingers clenched slightly in her long, dark locks until Juice reached out and stopped her, disentangling her hand from her hair and coaxing it down to her side. Jax, however continued.

"This is what it meant - they said that the future of the organization was relying on _Meimei_. On you," he said, turning and clapping a hand onto the back of Denise's chair, causing her to turn her attention back to him. "They've been counting on the trust fund going into the Triads' business. They want that money - but we won't let them get their hands on it, or on you."

"But I don't get it," Denise said woefully. "If they'd just killed me before…"

"It might not work like that, if your father and grandfather specifically wanted to keep it away from them," Juice said, shaking his head. "Plus, your brother wouldn't have it in him -"

"But Henry Lin would in a heartbeat," Jax interrupted, his gaze growing dark - and this immediately caused a small but very visceral reaction in Juice, whose hand, obstructed from Jax's view, clasped more tightly around Denise's. "Didn't you say he had no interest you until your father and grandfather died? He cared about your brother?"

"He has no children, he wanted a son," Denise explained with a nod. "Charles was the closest he could get - that was why Charles grew up looking up to _him_. They haven't killed me because they can't get the money while it's still held in trust, but once it's mine, if anything happened to me after that..."

She knew now. Denise had finally pieced it together - they were only going to keep her around until they no longer needed her... and Charles _did _have it in him to kill her. He'd proven that already. Once the money feel into their control, she would be dead weight.

But before she could give any further explanation, Horkowitz came back in with a stack of papers for Denise to look through, including a sealed envelope with a copy of her grandfather and father's will and letters meant to be given to her on her twenty-fifth birthday. Once everything was squared away, the three went back downstairs, left the building, and went back to the car where Gemma was waiting.

Gemma had a few choice expletives of her own when she received the long and short of the situation from Jax. "Good lookin' out, Juice," Jax said with a grin, glancing over his shoulder at the man behind him. "You've delivered the key to taking down Lin _straight_ to me."

Denise looked away out the window uncomfortably, despite Juice's immediate attempts to catch her gaze apologetically - he was worried that she might be angry at him, until she reached out for his hand again. Eventually, she fell asleep on his shoulder as they rolled on back up the interstate.

She didn't stir until the were close to Charming already, and seeing her move in the rearview mirror, Jax cleared his throat. "You're awake. Good," he said, smiling into the mirror as Denise straightened up in her seat. "Wanted to give you a chance to rest after the big news. Can we talk business, Miss Kwan?"

"Yeah," she nodded hesitantly, growing more and more wary every time Jax used the phrase _talking business_ because it never seemed to bode well. She had grown up leaving all of the _business_ up to others, and she would have very much liked to keep it that way, except for the crucial detail that doing so had gotten her into this mess. "Sure, of course."

"You need protection. I need to keep the money out of Lin's hands," he said matter-of-factly. "Because I want to see him on the ground in _squalor_ before I take him out. I don't want him dead right away. I want him to see his little empire fall to pieces before I finish the job," he said with a smirk. "If there is a way to keep the money from going to them at all, if it wouldn't _go_ to them, they have no reason to harm you. Now, we all have something to gain here - all of us -"

Jax paused, and Gemma seemed to catch onto what her son was about to suggest. "Jax," she interrupted in a low voice. "Come on, don't -"

"Denise," Jax said smoothly. "How do you feel about becoming _Mrs. Denise Ortiz?_"

This time, it was Juice's turn to practically choke on his own breath in shock, looking back and forth between Denise and Jax. The blonde man simply smirked, seeing that the suggestion had caught both Juice and Denise completely by surprise. Denise reflexively pulled away from Juice in shock at the suggestion.

Juice felt strangely sick - not at the idea of marrying Denise, but at the fact that now, they had simply become tools for Jax's revenge. They pulled up to the front of Juice's house at this point, and Jax directed Gemma to drop them off so they could pick up the boys from school, but Gemma instead got out of the car, following the pair down to the front porch.

"Are you gonna say yes?" she asked the two of them. Both remained silent, and Gemma glanced back over her shoulder at the car. "Look, this is the best option you could have hoped for, coming back here. Especially you, Juice. You know that Jax has had it in for you, but now he has a _use_ for you. Even if he doesn't let you back in, Jax'll make sure nothing happens to you. Either of you. _Think about it_," she said before leaving them, going back to the car, and driving off.

Once they got back inside the safety and closed doors of the house, Juice sat down on the couch, burying his head in his hands. "I don't know what to say right now," he said honestly. Denise kept some distance, looking equally conflicted as she crossed her arms over herself. "He never cared, you know," Juice continued, unfocused as though he was talking to himself more than Denise now. "He doesn't care whose life he has to ruin. I didn't want you to be a part of that."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"I don't _know."_

His voice was so pained that Denise flinched herself in sympathy, wishing she had the energy to offer him some kind of consolation, but she could hardly manage - she could hardly manage to keep her own head straight right now. But he hadn't asked for this either, she knew - and that thought remained in her mind, even in spite of everything else. Denise moved so that she was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. He grimaced, avoiding her gaze.

"I need you to know something," she said, craning her neck until Juice was actually looking at her. "I don't know what's going on anymore. I don't know what I'm doing here with you in a place like Charming. But I know that everything I've done that's gotten me here has been because… because I love you, okay?"

Juice suddenly looked up in surprise, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth right now, under these circumstances. She laughed a little at his expression, shaking her head gently, opening her mouth to speak before Juice managed to get the first word. "I love you," he echoed. "But I don't want to do this to you. I don't want to drag you into this. If there was nothing at stake, I'd get on one knee right here. You're wrong if you think I fuckin' wouldn't," he said, gesturing widely, desperate to avoid her thinking he didn't _want _to marry her. He hadn't _thought_ of it, admittedly, and had he not now been prompted to, he probably wouldn't have for a very long time - but it was never a matter of not _wanting_ it. "But that's not what's happening. I don't want it to happen just because Jax _needs_ it to happen."

"And I'm not gonna answer a proposal from Jax - only from you," Denise said with a smirk. Inside, she was _terrified_. The idea of getting married to someone she had only known nearly two months - even if it was Juice, even if she already she'd love him and was willing to go this far for him - was outlandish, but she couldn't be the one to show fear. "It - it doesn't need to _change_ anything," she said.

"You don't know what you're getting into," Juice said, slowly getting to his feet and walking towards the kitchen.

"Maybe not," Denise answered. "But I know what I'm getting out of." She followed after him, catching him by the crook of the arm and lifting herself onto her toes to press her lips against his cheek. "I can roll with whatever happens. It's whatever you decide."


	19. Chapter 19

"You're sure of what you saw?"

"Yes, sir - They all came out of the attorney's office together. _Meimei_ went willingly with them."

Henry Lin paused, his face screwed up in concern, while his nephew stood behind his chair with a choked look as they listened to one of the men - a somewhat rotund man in a worn-looking grey suit - give report of what he'd seen while looking for Denise. "So," Henry said, clasping his hands in front of his face. "She wasn't kidnapped, and now that _Jax Teller_ has the future of our fortune in his hands. And you, Bao - you didn't think to get her back?"

"Sir, they left too quickly," he said, holding his hands up placatingly. "There was no time to -"

Bao was dead with a bullet in his forehead before he even hit the ground. Charles jumped slightly at the sound of the gunshot and stared over the desk at Bao's still form, and his uncle shook his head with a throaty laugh. "You mustn't scare so easily, Charles," he smirked, putting his gun down on his desk and looking at Charles. "I can't entrust my business to someone who gets skittish at a little action."

"_Yes, Uncle_."

"_Mei_ is safe with them for now, it seems," Henry continued, drumming his fingers on his armrest. "But now that they've seen Horkowitz, they know about the money, Teller knows about the money - and if he stops us from getting it, the plans we've been working on for _years_ go up in smoke. They won't harm her because then, the money is out of their control and back in ours. We have until her twenty-fifth birthday to act - to win her back to the proper side."

"_Meimei_ won't last long with those _brutes_," Charles pointed out, shaking his head fervently. "She'll come back to us on her own, Uncle. I know her. She may be a bit rough around the edges, but she's accustomed to a certain lifestyle. She plays like one of the boys but at the end of the, she's a _housecat_. She'll come crawling back."

"Then we will simply wait and see. But, since they can't hurt her in retaliation, and we have their undivided attention," Henry grinned toothily, "there's no harm in sending Jax Teller a little _message_."

* * *

><p>"Denise?" Juice said, his voice beginning to sound panicked as he knocked on the locked bathroom door for probably the fourth time. Denise wasn't the type to take forever in the bathroom, and the longer he had to knock without receiving any response, not even the sound of movement in the running shower, the more it worried him. "<em>Babe<em>, come on."

Juice was resolved to keep knocking for as long as he needed to. He knew she was inside because she'd knocked on both his bedroom door and the guest room door where Gemma had come to stay and keep an eye on them, asking if they needed to use the bathroom.

"Babe, I'm gonna knock down this door if you don't -"

But the hinge gave a small creak, and Juice lowered the fist he had raised to bang on the door again when Denise peered out, her hair wet and her face raised and tear-stained. "I'm fine… sorry. Bathroom's yours." she said with a weak smile. It was only now that Juice realized that she was a mess too, and she was pretending not to be. For _him_.

Denise walked past Juice and back to the bedroom without saying anything else to him, and from the gap in the open door of the guest room, Gemma nodded slightly, gesturing for him to follow her. Juice knew, now that Denise was in on their secret, Gemma had her own reasons for being concerned about the girl's well-being, even if they weren't all entirely altruistic. Just like she couldn't afford for Juice to be a liability, she couldn't afford for Denise to veer too far down that road either.

Juice walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, seeing that Denise was curled up on her side in bed and pretending to be asleep.

"You're not snoring," he pointed out. "Which means you're either faking or dead."

There was a slight hesitation before she slowly sat up, pushing her long, wet hair out of hair face and giving a heaving sigh. Juice had to consciously keep from grimacing at the tired, slightly puffy look to her face. "Can you do me a favor and… just not _say_ everything's gonna be okay?" she asked with a weak, misplaced smile. "Because neither of us knows that it's going to be."

"Fine. Nothing's okay," Juice shrugged, sitting down next to her on the bed. "_You're_ definitely not okay. I know the shower is a good place for an existential crisis, but you didn't need to scare me like that. You can cry in here, in front of me. Or invite me into the shower. I'm cool with that too."

"Big words. _Existential crisis_," Denise laughed weakly, finding it easier than actually addressing anything that was being said. "You couldn't just believe that I got shampoo in my eyes and spare me the embarrassment?"

"I just don't get what you think you need to hide now," Juice shrugged. "My cards are on the table. Yours are on the table. Why can't you -"

"I can't tell you what's bothering me because I don't even _understand_ it anymore," Denise said, shaking her head fervently and gritting her teeth. It was almost painful to look at, like she was in actual agony, but the agony came from a place so deep that one simply _shook_ because they could think of no other motion to make it go away. And then, she was _crying_ again. The act of simply crying just seemed so much more violent, so much more agonizing when it was her doing it, because she was so small, her form so deceptively weak-looking, that each sob looked capable of breaking her.

"All this time - Charles said he was protecting me, that he was looking out for me and he was _all I had,_" Denise said resentfully, her voice cracking with sobs that until now had been artfully restrained. "I trusted him - I trusted him and Uncle because they were the only family I had left, and now…"

Her voice trailed off, and Juice quickly wrapped his arms around her as she crumbled in a heap against him. Strangely, there was a certain warmth and hope to the fact that she was falling apart in front of him for the first time, as though it meant a wall had been broken. He'd done it in front of her already - he'd cried for hours, and she'd simply been there. At least now, he could say that he'd done the same, that she _trusted_ him to that extent. To have won back someone's trust, to not be reined in by secrets, was freeing.

When Juice first met Denise, he'd assumed that perhaps she was too happy - too _hopeful_ of a person to cry. Later, he thought perhaps she was too strong to cry. The fact that now, she was just a person, that she was someone who needing a little saving too, cemented in his mind that she was something special.

The pair had fallen asleep, leaning against the headboard of the bed when hours later when it was practically pitch black, there was a loud knock on their door. Both of them woke quickly, while Juice got to the door first to reveal a frantic Gemma, poised to bang on the door again.

"Jax and the boys," she panted, grabbing Juice and pulling him out of the room while Denise followed along behind. "The house is burning down -"

She didn't waste time with any additional explanation as they all hurried out to her car, even in their states of drowsy undress, and sped down the streets of Charming to where fire engines had already arrived in front of the house, consumed by flames, as well as some of the other guys. They looked on in strange apprehension as Juice stepped out of the car, alive and well. He hung back, while Gemma grabbed a hold of Denise's wrist and pulled her along to two children standing in front of the house, crying. "Help me with them," she directed, to which Denise spoke no protest.

"_Daddy's still in there_!" cried the older of the two boys, while the younger simply sat on the sidewalk, sobbing. But, just as he said it, a silhouette became visible, running out from the back with a bag over his shoulder. Jax hurried over to his sons, dropping the bag with a dull thud before Gemma abruptly reached out and slapped him across the face.

"You fucking idiot - you ran back in there for that shit and left your boys out here?"

"I made sure my boys were safe _first_," he said through gritted teeth, panting heavily. "This shit is important -"

"_Daddy_…"

Jax grimaced as he realized the way they'd just heard him talking and he shook his head, crouching down in front of his sons apologetically.

"Abel, are you and your brother okay?" he said, his voice suddenly taking on a very different tone as he gently placed a hand around the back of his son's neck, kissing his forehead. The boys gave a terrified sniffle.

"He wouldn't stop crying until that lady came," Abel said, pointing off to the side. Jax looked up and found that Denise had sit down on the ground next to the boys and had since pulled Thomas onto her lap, facing him away from the fire and covering his ears to block out the commotion.

"That's Denise," Jax explained to Abel, looking over at the young woman holding his younger son. "You and Thomas are gonna go with her and Juice while I go with your uncles to talk some things over, alright?"

"What about me?" Gemma asked, her brow furrowed at the assignment of someone other than herself to look after her grandsons in Jax's absence. Her son leaned over, muttering something to her before raising his eyebrows. "Okay," Gemma conceded. "I can do that." But there was something in her expression that seemed unseated, uneasy.

For a moment, Abel looked over at the unfamiliar woman as though feeling her out before nodding quietly. Jax glanced at Gemma, who immediately caught on what the plan was. She walked the few yards over to Denise and tapped her shoulder, dropping her car keys down on the ground next to her.

"You and Juice are gonna watch the boys for us while we take care of things," she directed. Denise looked up and nodded hesitantly, stuffing the keys into the pocket of the sweatpants she was wearing. Abel, too, wandered over and looked at Denise as she stood up, still holding Thomas with only slight difficulty. She paused, reaching her hand out for him to take, and he slowly obliged, following her over to the car.

* * *

><p>"So you made the girl fall for you so you could use her as leverage to get back into the club?"<p>

"No - that's not what the boy did," Chibs said, shaking his head. Juice breathed a sigh of relief, having felt immediately fearful when the rest of the guys began interrogating him about his return. They knew about Denise, and by now, they knew about the money, but the sudden shift in the wind from Jax wanting him dead to cautiously accepting him as an ally of sorts was jarring, even for them. "He fell for the girl before he knew -"

"But he still handed her over to Jax?" Happy asked, eyeing Juice suspiciously. "How do we know he's not just playing two hands? If he's willing to stab a brother in the back, how do we know he isn't just using the girl as bait for a good deal -"

"Because I decided to come here on my own, Juice didn't want any of this," Denise spoke up, popping up almost silently behind the guys with both of Jax's boys in tow. "It was my idea."

The fact that Jax entrusted his boys to this girl, regardless of how little he truly knew about her, had to stand for something - they moved aside and let her get back to Juice and back to the car. "We've got them for tonight," she explained. "You drive, I'll sit in the back with them."

Within minutes of getting into the car, the boys had both fallen asleep on Denise before they even got back to the house so she and Juice had to each carry one of them in, placing them down gently on the couch. Denise, whose hair was still messy and damp from having gone to sleep right after her long shower, shook her head and twisted her dark locks off to one side, not taking an eye off of them.

"Poor little guys," she said with a shake of her head. "They shouldn't be caught in the middle of all this."

And it hit Juice again like a freight train - if the boys had their mother, she would have gotten them far, _far_ away from Charming by now. In his own way, he'd had a hand in this too. He walked off to the kitchen, shaking his head in self-loathing while Denise followed him with silent footsteps.

"You think my Uncle is behind this?" she asked carefully, crossing her arms over her chest. The silence that came from Juice was confirmation enough. Denise sighed, nodding and looking down at the ground. "_Shit_," she muttered. "This is because of me."

"None of this is because of you -"

"You think my Uncle wouldn't have found some other reason to want to destroy SAMCRO if you hadn't done it? You think if you'd given some name other than his, everyone would just be at peace?" Denise asked knowingly, her voice reduced to a whisper. "I've known since I was a kid, he doesn't care about anyone. He'd mow down anybody and anything for any reason - maybe you sped it up a little, but he would've found a reason."

"You don't know that."

"I've heard things about what he's up to. Just because I didn't understand doesn't mean I didn't hear any of it. We're too far in the hole to turn around and climb out," Denise continued. "We just keep digging and hope we find the other side."

Just the act of saying it - just the act of trying to take the weight from his shoulders was enough to flip a switch in Juice's head. _We're_ too far in the hole. _We_ just keep digging, she said. It was no longer just his burden to bear, and despite the fact that he didn't want it to be Denise's burden either, he was thankful for it. She reached out and clasped her hand over his, tugging him closer to her.

"You need rest," she said carefully. "The boys are pretty comfy on those couches, you should probably follow their lead."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I know it's been a while since I left an author's note, so I wanted to throw one in now - I want to say thank you to **stordec23 **and **wabi-sabi1090** for their dedicated reviewing and support for the story and I hope I continue to keep your coming back! And also, to **Love Ink**, I was completely starstruck when I found out that you were reading and enjoying my story so far! I've just started a new full-time job recently and it's been super stressful, so all of the good feedback from all of you guys has made a rough situation so much better._

_And to all of the story's other readers and followers, I see you too and I know you're out there! Thank you, all of you! I hope to hear from you sometime about how the story is going for you so far.  
><em>

_From here on out, there are a lot of twists and turns that I have planned as long as I can find out how to write them in a way that I'm happy with, so I hope not to lose anyone. I really wanted to get another update in before the next episode ("Greensleeves") aired, so here it is for all of you. Until the next update, cheers!_


	20. Chapter 20

With Juice and the boys asleep, Denise had just made herself her second coffee in the past two hours and started back toward the couch when the front door opened to reveal a disheveled-looking Jax and Gemma.

"You ran back in there like a dumbass for some clothes and some fucking pictures? _Please_ don't tell me that's all it was," Gemma railed on, following a clearly distraught Jax into the front door. "Your boys were scared sick - what if they lost their dad too?"

"I'm not gonna fucking die," Jax said through gritted teeth, avoiding providing the full answer that his mother wanted to her questions. "Not until Lin pays. For Tara, and for _this_. I'll at least hold my last breath until then."

"This is bigger than you, Jackie, " Gemma said almost pleadingly while Denise very deliberately turned her face away from something she felt she had no place hearing - she had her own family business to hide from, she didn't need to be part of this on top of it. "Get the cops in on -"

"We're not going to do this through the _cops,_" Jax sneered. "If they're declaring war on me personally, it's going to be handled personally-"

"You don't think you're going too far?"

"They crossed the line first, and it's too late to step back - they put my boys in danger -"

"They're okay. They're asleep," Denise spoke up gently, trying feebly to keep any of this from escalating further. "Abel was really shook up, needed to keep the windows cracked so we had air in here, but he's alright now…."

Gemma grimaced at the sight of the younger woman – Denise had been a mess when she'd first arrived, sure, but not like this. She let out a huff and walked over, taking the mug of coffee out of Denise's hands and pouring it down the sink.

"You shouldn't be staying up any more than you have, honey, you're a mess," she said frankly. Denise looked down consciously at herself - her clothes that still smelled faintly of smoke, her messy hair. "Thanks for looking after the boys."

"Yeah," Denise nodded. "Of course."

When she didn't immediately leave to go to sleep, however, Jax walked over, pulling something out of the bag of things he'd salvaged out of the fire and dropped a manila envelope on the counter in front of her. She glanced at him in slight confusion.

"You left this in the car. Open it," he directed. Admittedly, Denise would have much rather followed Gemma's suggestion than opened anything else that came from the attorney, but coming from Jax, it had hardly been a request. She ran her finger under the flap, pulling it open and gently tugging out its contents. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion when, in addition to the wills of both her father and grandfather, there was also a smaller sealed envelope with her name penned on the front. Opening this one as well, she unfolded the brittle letterhead inside and leaned back against the kitchen counter to read it aloud.

"_If you are seeing this, it means something has happened beyond my control. My heart breaks to know that one day when you see this, your grandfather and I will not be there._

_I am so deeply sorry for what this means for you, my darling child. Henry believes that if I and your grandfather are dead, he is next in line to the fortune. He is mistaken. You may be wondering why everything has been left to you and not to Charles, and while I hope you will never see the reasons on your own, I will explain._

_I love your brother dearly, but there is a darkness in him because of your Uncle Henry's influence that I can no longer avoid without destroying my own brother's name. I cannot bear it, and for that weakness, I apologize to you, my beloved daughter. Your grandfather and I will leave the money to you, and not your brother or your uncle, because you are still good. You are still kind and whole, and will not use it to bring pain and hurt to others as Henry has._

_Keep it safe from them. They will attempt to sway you when they learn of what we have done, but remain strong - as strong as the oak, as I know you are. A time will come that you may be able to bring your brother back to the light. If you find this chance, save him. For my sake, my child, I beg you. He is a smart young man, but not strong like you. Not kind like you. He needs you._

_Do not be swayed. You are my heart and soul, Mei-xiu, and as long as your heart beats with strength and honor, so too does mine…"_

_Mei-xiu. _No one had called her that in years. Denise placed the letter down on the counter, turning away from everyone in the room and towards the window above the kitchen sink in hopes that no one would see her reaction to the letter, but the telltale shudder of her shoulders made it clear that she was shaken by the revelation.

Everything had been left to her because her own father didn't think Charles could be trusted - and he had known all along. Denise had placed every ounce of her trust in her older brother, and now - three years after it was done - was learning that this was the exact opposite of what her father wanted.

"Jesus Christ," Gemma muttered, walking over and placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Sweetie, come on. It's done, alright? You know better now."

Gemma glanced over her shoulder at Jax with a pointed expression - she admittedly had her own reasons for wanting her son to just let Denise and Juice get away, far away from Charming, and not all of them were magnanimous or out of concern for either of them. Still, it was obvious that Denise had no idea what she was getting into. She was the last person fit to get dragged into something like this. She was a _kid_.

"Did your dad tell you anything else?" Jax pressed unrelentingly. Denise shook her head, but the displeased expression on his face remained. "Nothing? You don't know anything about Lin or who he's been making deals with?"

"Why is Aunt Deedee crying?" Abel said groggily - Jax, Gemma, and Denise all turned around to see that he was now sitting up on the couch, clutching a blanket around himself. Denise laughed weakly, wiping her eyes and shaking her head.

"Nah, I'm not crying," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I got a little smoke in my eyes earlier and it just won't wash out. It's pretty itchy."

"When can we go home?" Abel asked, his face screwed up in concern as he grew visibly distraught again. "I don't like staying at Uncle Juice's house, all he has in here is salad."

At this, there was an almost grudging snicker that carried through the adults in the room, even from Jax, before he walked over and knelt in front of his son.

"I don't know when we're going home yet, buddy," he shrugged. Denise couldn't restrain a look of surprise on her face when she noted the drastic transformation in the man's voice when he talked to his son. "But you're gonna be safe here."

"With Aunt Deedee?"

Jax glanced over at the younger woman as though to verify whether or not it was okay that she had just become Aunt Deedee to his boys, to which she shrugged with a weak smile.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Anywhere Aunt Deedee is, the bad guys aren't gonna try any funny business."

"Why?" Abel asked. "Is she a superhero?"

"If I was, I couldn't tell you, buddy," Denise said, walking over slowly with her arms crossed over herself. She cocked her head to one side and gave the young boy a small smile. "Superheroes need to have secrets, you know. Secret identities. To keep the people they care about safe -"

"So my daddy's a superhero too?"

Jax seemed to flinch, as though the statement was a punch in the gut, but Denise continued without pause. "He just might be, buddy. He just can't tell you so," she chuckled, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "Now, how about we get you a glass of milk and you go back to sleep?"

After about an hour, Abel had fallen back asleep alongside his brother, with Juice still out cold in the old armchair across the room. Denise sat on the floor with her back against the chair, while Jax and Gemma sat on the couch in front of the boys.

"We're staying here for the night," Jax said, his gaze downcast. "I want to keep my boys somewhere that I know nothing is gonna happen, and the only place that's safe is wherever you are, Kwan. None of them are gonna hurt you until that money's free for the taking."

Denise shrugged again, really the only reaction she had to anything lately. She wasn't in much of a position to refuse. Soon, however, they all succumbed to sleep in their respective spots in the living room.

* * *

><p>Before ever setting foot in Charming, Denise had grown used to being the first one awake in any group of people who might happen to be sleeping, but when she stirred the next morning, she found that Jax had gotten up from his spot on the floor as well, looking out the kitchen window completely unaware that someone else could see him.<p>

He was still a _good_ person - or, at the very least, he was still human. That fact hadn't been apparent to Denise until now, until she'd seen the look of relief on his face when he'd returned to find his little boys safe.

"You should open the window, it's a little stuffy in here when it's crowded like this," Denise spoke up quietly, prompting him to turn around. He found himself unknowingly experiencing something similar to what Juice had gone through when he'd first met Denise - even now, when she was no longer putting up a front, she acted with a sort of frankness and humanity to her that was almost unsettling. Thankfully, he didn't need to address it, as Gemma stirred as well. After first looking at Abel and Thomas, both still fast asleep and in a state of dreamful drooling, she stood up and cleared her throat.

"I think I need a morning smoke," she groaned slightly, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I could use one," Jax agreed before glancing at Denise. "You smoke?"

"Haven't made a habit of it. You two go ahead."

They stepped out the front door, and Denise took the opportunity to move across the room to where Juice was still sleeping, shaking him awake gently. He mumbled unintelligibly before opening his eyes and spotting the boys on his couch. "They still here?"

"Jax and Gemma spent the night too. You missed quite the sleepover," she said in a near-whisper, wearing a slight smirk.

Juice blinked back his obvious disbelief at the fact that Jax of all people had been willing to spend a night in his nome, but he knew that desperate times called for desperate measures. He also knew, just looking at the girl in front of him, that last night hadn't been hard only for Jax Teller. "You look kinda shitty."

"Well you're not looking too hot yourself. _Flatterer_," she retorted, rolling her eyes before getting up and walking back to the kitchen counter to retrieve the envelope Jax had brought. She came back, brandishing the letter from her father in Juice's direction.

His eyes flitted over the page - he was an admittedly fast reader - then back up to Denise. "Shit. _Babe_," he said, shaking his head in the absence of anything more productive to say upon knowing the letter's contents - and more importantly, what the contents of the letter would do to her head. Denise, however, simply shrugged, the smile on her face growing melancholy.

"Don't '_shit, babe'_ me. I thought it might make you feel better," Denise added with her most valiant attempt at laughter.

"How is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Because you don't need to blame yourself anymore. Because - because I was always meant to get dragged into this. I was always meant to be stuck holding the money, playing keepaway from Uncle Henry. It's not your fault. The only thing you did was make it so I didn't need to be stuck in this position _alone_."

But Juice _didn't_ feel any better upon hearing the news that he wasn't the sole cause of Denise's life being torn to bits. It didn't give him any sense of relief - if anything, it felt like another blow to the gut that she had just been on the receiving end of this bombshell, and she was trying to make _him_ feel better. At some point, he worried she would crack. She would get tired - and he would understand, because he knew tired. He knew it better than anyone.

"Hey," Denise said with a throaty laugh, gently tipping the bottom of his chin with the side of her knuckle to get his attention. "Remember, no turning back. We're digging our way through together."

* * *

><p>"You want me to take Juice up to this place? All the way out to Sac?"<p>

"I just don't need the rest of the club knowing and asking questions," Jax said, holding the business card out to Gemma and giving it an impatient shake. The older woman accepted it, looking down to read the card as though she didn't believe what was on it. Elvas Avenue, Sacramento. Tattoo removal. Gemma looked up with raised eyebrows, to which Jax responded with a slight sneer. "He _deserves_ to lose the ink on his chest the way Hobart did," he said darkly. "But I can't afford Kwan getting spooked. If she books it, I lose my leverage on Lin. I lose my chance, and I can't have that. The bastard is trying to pick off my family."

"Are you serious about this?"

"She's an ally - she's going to give up her own flesh and blood. She took care of my boys last night. She's worth over a hundred mil," Jax said, leaning close and ticking each item off on his fingers. "Even if I take it to the table, the club will agree with me. Getting back at Juice isn't worth giving up that leverage. That's why I need you to talk to him on your little roadtrip. Get him to cave about that wedding, and he's Denise's problem, not ours."

Gemma paused, eyeing Jax critically. "You don't really care about the ink, do you?" She asked, shaking her head gently. It was relieving, sure, that Jax was letting up on Juice because it meant her secret was safer. It also meant, however, that Jax was acting more and more out of vengeance, less and less out of concern for being a leader in SAMCRO. Gemma loathed herself for realizing the possibility that now, even Jax was becoming a liability.

When they returned inside, Juice was a little taken aback by the sudden order to get dressed and go with Gemma - his gaze was fearful when he realized that Denise wasn't coming with him, and Denise looked equally perturbed until Jax came over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be back by tonight to make you a fuckin' salad or something," he said with a slightly forced smirk, but even forced at it was, it somehow served its purpose. Gemma pulled out her car keys and gestured for Juice to get into the passenger seat of her SUV.

Once they had gotten onto I-5 and each smoked a cigarette, Gemma reached out and turned down her stereo. "Alright, honey," she said directly. "I'm just gonna come out and say it - you're latching onto that Kwan girl _hard._ She's a real peach, kid, and I mean that. But at the end of the day, if she's just a poor little rich girl who isn't gonna be able to hack it in the end -"

"I love her," Juice interrupted, his gaze focused straight forward on the expanse of road ahead of them. "Denise is... she's -"

"She's your lifeline is what she is," Gemma said, raising her eyebrows. "You know, Jax wanted to torch the ink off of you like they did to Kyle Hobart? The reason he didn't is because you're the only hold he's got on her. So if you're dead set on this, then you need to seal this deal -"

"You mean marry her."

"It's a trip to the courthouse, a couple signatures, you're done," Gemma said in exasperation. "You need to keep that girl. She knows our secret, and I can't do a thing about it because Jax _needs_ her. If you don't do right by her, we both fry."

"And this shotgun wedding over her grandpa's money is doing right by her?" Juice asked in disbelief. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"

"Look what she's done for you, babe," Gemma said with a caustic chuckle. "She's already _yours_. I don't know how you managed it, what you put in her drinking water, but she is down as hell. No woman does that for a man she doesn't see some kinda life with."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Two chapters with A/N's in a row! Just wanted to join in the collective craziness over "Greensleeves" last night - my feels are still recovering. But anyway, just wanted to reach out to my readers and look for a little feedback. I'm currently writing quite a bit ahead of where you're reading and have reached the end of one story arc, for the most part, before there is a time lapse and we start a whole new ballgame. (Yes, a bit of a spoiler, maybe - the story runs pretty long and doesn't get resolved very quickly)._

_Anyway, just so I can adjust things and plan accordingly, would you guys like to see "On the Rocks" stop at that point, and have me start a sequel? Or stay within the same story so it's convenient for all of us? I'm leaning towards the latter, but you guys are the ones that matter, so I'm putting it to the table for a vote. Opinions?_

_Additionally, I've also been a little more liberal with the f-bombs in the dialogue than I meant to be, and there are also some scenes that are toeing the line, so down the road, a rating change might be in order, just to be safe, but it's not quite set in stone. We'll see what gets left on the cutting room floor!_

_That's all I have for you for the time being, but be on the lookout for the next chapter soon! Cheers!_


	21. Chapter 21

"Daddy, Aunt Deedee makes good scrambled eggs. Did you eat any?" Abel sputtered as some of the aforementioned eggs flicked out of his full mouth - Juice and Gemma had left nearly an hour ago, and the boys had just woken up. Jax had planned on leaving to meet up with the rest of the club, but had some misgivings about leaving Denise alone to play babysitter with his boys, so he had instead done what a president does best: he _delegated_.

It had admittedly been weeks since he'd simply sat and had breakfast with them, and there was something strangely normal about the situation. Maybe, he realized, staying home today had been the right decision - but not for the reason's he'd made it.

"She tol' me she puts flour and milk in 'em like a cake. They're cake eggs," Abel continued, raising another spoonful into his mouth. "Can I have ketchup?"

"Just eat the eggs plain, buddy, it's better for you," Jax said, fondness still somehow able to overtake the tiredness in his voice. He noted, however, that Abel was significantly different, even given the trauma he had been through the previous night. He seemed almost happy, carefree like a normal child - and Jax strongly faulted himself and his absence for being the reason that Abel wasn't like this all the time. "Abel - I can feed Tommy, just focus on your own breakfast."

Denise gave a light chuckle at the crestfallen expression on Abel's face as he withdrew the spoon he was starting to push towards his younger brother, dropping the utensil onto his plate with a clatter. Seeing that the action made Denise laugh, Abel laughed toothily as well at having been able to make someone _else_ smile. People never smiled around here anymore, as he pointed out to anyone who would listen. _Aunt Deedee's_ arrival may not have changed a whole lot in Charming, but when she was here, people smiled again once in a while.

"She's fun. What grade is Aunt Deedee in?" Abel asked, looking up at his father, who couldn't help but shake his head with barely restrained laughter. "She's not that tall, I think _eighth_ -"

"Aunt Deedee's a grownup," Jax chuckled, reaching out and ruffling Abel's hair as a shocked expression crossed his face.

"A grown-up? Like, a real grown-up? But she's not tall like Mommy and Grandma," Abel pointed out, glancing at her with his brow furrowing. "She's even smaller than Auntie Lyla."

Denise simply chuckled and poured Abel a glass of milk, which he began taking swigs from before he even finished his mouthful of eggs. She was standing at the sink doing the dishes when Abel finally spoke up again. "We all smell real bad, Daddy," he pointed out. "My clothes stink."

"Your uncles are just taking care of business, then we'll go out and get you some new ones," Jax said with a lopsided grin at his son's antics. Taking care of business, of course, meant that they were still trying to track down who was behind last night, as if it weren't obvious. "Are you okay watching Tommy while I talk to Aunt Deedee for a while?"

"As long as you don't make 'er cry again," Abel said, raising his eyebrows. "She looks weird when she cries. That's probably why her and Uncle Juice are friends."

"Alright, buddy. I'll do my best."

Jax moved across the room and nodded for Denise to follow him, and they retreated over to the guest room where Gemma had been keeping her things, closing the door behind them to keep any delicate details from the boys' ears.

"You made up your mind yet?" Jax asked, crossing his arms over himself, clearly struggling to be as even-keeled as possible - Denise didn't need any clarification as to what he was talking about. Jax took a lumbering step towards her, and she exhaled through her nostrils as she recognized the trademark move - she knew he was trying to be dominant. He was trying to be in control - and despite being young, being afraid, being completely lost, Denise had never taken well to not being in control.

"Juice is still on the fence about it," Denise said, mirroring his stance and crossing her arms as well, making it clear that this meant she wasn't going to decide either - but her confidence was only skin-deep. Jax shifted his weight, shuffling slightly.

"Well, where do you stand?" he pressed. "Are you willing to do this for us?"

"For _Juice_. I'm willing to do it for him."

Jax went quiet for a brief moment, pursing his lips and exhaling through his nose and shaking his head as he looked up at the ceiling. "You should do it for you. You're young. You're making a mistake - you shouldn't love anybody like that unless you wanna end up wrecked."

"Are you giving me advice now? Is that what this is?" Denise asked, raising an eyebrow gently. "I know what all of you think of me, but I can handle myself. I _can_."

"He's a rat and I'm not asking you to trust him or do him any favors. You shouldn't. You shouldn't count on him for a damn thing," Jax spoke harshly. "I'm not asking you to stay with him for life. I'm _telling _you, this is how we keep the money away from your uncle. You don't need to commit to anything more than that -"

"I'm not that kind of person," Denise said, her face morphing into a grimace. "I'm not gonna be married off because of the money. If I do it, it'll be-"

"Forever?" Jax asked, his voice laced with derision and, somewhere much deeper, pain. Denise laughed quietly, shaking her head.

"No such thing. Nobody stays in your life forever," Denise said with a lopsided grin. "You just keep losing people you love until the ones left lose you. It's easy to look back and say if you just woulda known, you'd have just not cared about them, but that's bullshit. You still woulda because once it hurts a little less you realize that the time you had was worth it. It was so _fucking _worth it..."

Jax suddenly felt shitty when he heard her voice break; she wasn't even looking at him anymore, as though she was talking to herself now. And for fuck's sake, she was crying. But he knew what she was saying - and a part of him grudgingly admitted that it was true. He could never say that he'd have stayed away from Tara if he'd known. He'd never say she hadn't been worth it.

"Quit the tears or Abel's gonna kick my ass," he said. "You're right. You know what you're doing. But whatever your decision is, I need it soon."

He paused, and it looked almost as though he was ready to end the conversation until he paused, grimacing and shaking his head.

"Why did you say what you did to Abel last night?" Jax asked - Denise looked at him, puzzled and unable to recall anything that would call for such a serious approach. "What you said about the superheros?"

"That?" she asked, her expression taking a turn for concern, almost pity. "I don't know. I just don't think any kid should have the image of the people they love shattered like that. It hurts too much."

"I'm not a good person."

"I don't care what you are," Denise shrugged plainly. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because I know if I found out what I did about Charles and Uncle Henry before now - before I was ready - it would have messed me up. It would have fucking _wrecked_ me," Denise explained, taking a step back to lean back on the nearby nightstand, bracing herself with her hands. "To be honest... I don't know if it hasn't still. But no matter what you are, your kid deserves to believe in something. I think you're _nuts. _I think you're manipulative and selfish," she said honestly. "But I don't hate you enough to take that away from your son."

"Is this one of those wax-on-wax-off Asian honor type of things? _Sensei_?" Jax said with a derisive smirk. "Because it won't make me change my mind."

Denise was briefly tempted to point out that she was, in fact, _not_ Japanese before she realized that it wasn't entirely relevant in the conversation. Instead, she shook her head. "This is me answering a question that you asked."

Apparently satisfied for the time being Jax turned around to go back out the door, back to his boys, before Denise let out an exasperated noise, clearly having anticipated more from him in the context of this conversation. He had pulled her away as though it were a matter of life and death.

"That's it? Just... I need your decision soon? No Glock to the face, knife to the throat?" She asked incredulously, confident that this leniency was too good to be true. "If I'm getting off this easy, there has to be a catch."

At this, Jax grudgingly chuckled a little - he was starting to see just how this girl had managed to rebuild Juice from the wreck he'd been, to get him back to his feet. There was an honesty to her, an openness that toed a line between naivete and brilliance. He withdrew his hand from the doorknob and shrugged, gesturing outward with his arms. "You've earned my respect, Miss Kwan. And when you earn my respect, you get a little slack."

* * *

><p>"Shit, watch it it!"<p>

"You've got quite a few more sessions of this to go, kid - be thankful it isn't worse," Gemma said pointedly after accidentally grazing her arm against the area where Juice's skin beneath his shirt was raw from his first tattoo removal session. They walked back into the door of the house to find it empty - it was already evening. Juice immediately had a shift in demeanor, his mind milling with ideas of where Jax could have dragged Denise off to.

"Aunt Deedee, I think you and me wear the same size t-shirt," Abel's voice chimed, coming up the driveway after getting out of a car driven by Bobby, with Jax in the passenger seat and Denise getting Tommy out of his carseat in the back. "You're kind of a pipsqueak. Maybe you were born early like me. Daddy says I was born small - maybe you just never got big."

Denise simply laughed as she came up the driveway, not exactly able to argue. They had just come from the store, and her shirts weren't a whole lot larger than Abel's at all, fabric-wise. She glanced up the driveway and walked briskly up to bring Tommy to Gemma.

"Looks like the boys warned up to you fast," she pointed out, her smile looking somewhat forced. Of course the boys were going to warm up to her - they were looking for a mom wherever they could get one, and while Denise hardly came off as matriarchal, she was better than nothing. She made the boys smile again... and that, Gemma had decided the previous night, was worth keeping her around for.

Once Tommy was safely in his grandmother's arms, Denise turned to Juice and noticed how strangely he carried himself. "Come on, let's take you back to the room - I picked up some ointment. Jax told me you'd be needing it."

Juice wouldn't get started about how demeaning it was beginning to feel that the mercy he'd received from Jax was simply _bought_, and that Denise had been the payment. The barely concealed look of disapproval from Bobby confirmed one thing - everyone still thought that he'd used her. His gaze remained frenetic as he allowed Denise to lead him back, first through the kitchen to pick up an ice pack from the freezer and then to the room, but he flinched visibly when Jax spoke up again.

"Remember what I said, Kwan. I need a decision from the two of you. _Soon._"

Denise gave a curt nod before clasping her hand gently around Juice's wrist, retreating with him into the bedroom and nodding for him to sit at the edge of the bed. She dropped the hydrocortisone cream and ice pack on the bed next to him before leaning over and pressing her lips to his.

"I missed you," she said. "How was it?"

"Better than the alternative," he answered shortly. "I don't like the idea of you being alone here with Jax. Even with the boys - you're getting too involved. Too personal," he said in a low voice, gently pulling her wrist until she sat down next to him. "This is exactly what I didn't want. I didn't want you coming here, getting close to people like them because you get sucked in, and once you get to that point -"

"I'm not doing this for _them, _Juice, I'm in this for you," she said, her voice low but ardent. "I'm doing this because I know neither of us is gonna be able to rest until this is cleaned up and put away. Do you think I know what the hell I'm doing? I don't know if I'm desperate, or if I'm being stupid... I don't know anything anymore," Denise said, running both hands through her long dark hair. Juice reached out to put a hand on her back but quickly withdrew when she inhaled sharply and turned back to face him.

"I take that back. I know _one_ thing," she said, her face etched with slight lines. "I know I want to be with you - just you, and all of you. And I can't have that until all of _this _is over. That's all I'm gunning for, because whatever you and I have, it's real."

Juice couldn't explain the maelstrom of thoughts this shoved into his head, a mixture of thoughts both amazing and crushing. She was _young_ - he had no place leaning on her like this, turning his life into her responsibility. But at the same time, Denise was so fierce, so adamant in her defense of him in a way no one ever had been. Juice knew that the circumstances were beyond fucked up, and yet, selfish or not, he knew that in the end he wouldn't make any moves to change would, however, make every move necessary _not_ to lose her.

He leaned over, practically pouncing as he captured her lips with his. He wrapped one arm around her waist, leaning her back against the bed. He felt her arms tense as she restrained her first instinct to run her fingers over his skin as she always did - the same exact move that drove him off the wall _every_ time. Juice let out a low growl before pulling back with a slight smirk.

"Don't go easy on me, babe," he chuckled, pressing his body against hers as he buried his face in her neck. When Denise's hand finally ran over the slightly stinging skin on his chest, Juice let out a low hiss at the sting, raking his teeth over her soft skin in retaliation. He grinned, even in spite of the pain, when the act made Denise writhe slightly underneath him, her hips bucking against his.

It was a familiar jumble of limbs, punctuated by fervent kisses as they clumsily got one another undressed - whoever was in the house outside of the room became irrelevant, they knew how to keep it down without short-changing one another at this point. Any incriminating sounds that would be hard to explain in the morning were simply replaced by bite marks which no one would really bother asking about. Juice referred to it as a learned art that he'd now taught to Denise.

Later, once they had practically collapsed into a heap on the bed, curled up in the sheets with Juice's arm wrapped around Denise's waist from behind, he leaned over and nudged his nose against the side of her neck to see if she was still awake. She let out a small, sleepy groan and craned her neck around, glancing at Juice with a slight grimace the way she always did when he woke her. He chuckled slightly, glancing over her face in the dim, bluish moonlight that streamed in through the window.

Juice mused that most girls were prettiest when they smiled - to him, saying a girl was gorgeous when she smiled was easy. Denise, however, was different. He thought she was pretty when she smiled, sure. But he thought she was pretty when she was pissed off. He thought she was pretty when she just wanted to go to sleep. She was pretty when she slept, and when she first woke up in the morning, even if her hair was in a tugged out ponytail from the night before and she'd left a drool spot on the pillow beneath her head. She was pretty - but most importantly, she was _his_. And suddenly, that seemed like reason enough to make a very important decision, right there in that moment.

"Hey, Dee," he said.

"Hm?"

"Marry me?"

Denise blinked sleepily, tilting her head and mulling over what she heard, as though she wasn't entirely sure that she'd actually heard it. Juice suddenly felt an intense sort of suspense in the brief seconds before one side of her mouth quirked into a drowsy, barely perceptible smile. She managed to answer with one word before dozing back off.

"...yeah."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a proposal. I know, anti-climactic. But then again, we're under some very unorthodox circumstances, and things are going to continue to become more and more unorthodox. Denise is going to get deeper and deeper into life in Charming, and Juice is going to realize some things as well. I'm really excited to be turning this particular corner in the story, because I love when stories show the fact that getting married isn't an automatic "Go to Happily Ever After!" card. There's a lot more in store for Juice and Denise, and for all of SAMCRO. The upcoming twists will start bringing more players into the game, so fasten your seatbelts, because Charming is heading for a shakeup._

_Now, this is way far ahead of time (maybe 20 chapters ahead of where we are in the story right now, or a decent bit into the sequel if I decide to split it), but I just wanted to share with you guys that I've written a part of the story that I'm really excited about, because it involves Gemma's sins finally coming home to roost. The next chapters that I post within the next couple weeks or so, however, will have a small taste of Gemma's lies being exposed and her starting to face the consequences for the things she's done._

_Until next time, cheers!_


	22. Chapter 22

Denise woke before Juice in the morning, squirming out from under his arm and pulling on some of the new clothes she'd bought the previous day, glad to have clothes that actually _fit_. Slipping into the skinny jeans and oversized boat-neck sweater, she made her way into the living room where Jax and Gemma were already visible in the kitchen, trying to scrounge up breakfast for the boys before they woke. Hearing the creak of the door, both of them glanced over as Denise entered. Seeing as she'd pulled her hair into a braid off to one side, Gemma immediately smirked and rolled her eyes at the sight of the marked skin on the exposed side of her neck.

"I don't think I need to ask what you were doing last night," she said dismissively.

"What I was _doing_," Denise said with a lopsided grin as she shut the bedroom door behind her, "was getting _engaged_. You've got yourself a deal, Jax."

The immediate responses - the throaty chuckle from Jax and the shocked expression from Gemma - garnered a small laugh from Denise as she walked into the kitchen, leaning on the counter across from them. Jax shrugged before reaching out his hand for a handshake, which Denise hesitantly accepted.

"Congratulations, Miss Kwan," he said, knowing he wouldn't be calling her that for long. "When your _fiancé_ gets his ass out of bed, we'll start talking logistics."

Juice, however, didn't get out of bed until a couple of hours later when Abel and Tommy were already wandering around the house, having already had breakfast and gotten changed. It was still jarring for him, going from being in hiding and wanting nothing more than to remain unseen to having a small herd of Tellers living in his house, but he wore the shock well as Abel immediately rushed over to him, using his leg as a punching bag.

"Aunt Deedee said you could set up the video games," he said between playful punches. "She said you'd play with me."

"Oh, so Aunt Deedee is the boss of me now?" Juice asked with a drowsy chuckle, swiping his forearm over his eyes.

"You're gonna marry her, Juicy, you best get used to it," Gemma piped in. Juice paused and looked over, surprised that Denise had broken the news so early - but he hadn't really expected otherwise. Jax had been putting her on a time crunch, after all, and with all she'd done for him, Juice didn't fault her for wanting to take some of the pressure off of her own shoulders. He chuckled somewhat awkwardly, shaking his head before looking back down at Abel.

"Alright - since the boss lady said so, I'll set it up for you in a few minutes, aight?" he smirked. "But first, I gotta run to the bathroom and -"

"Take a leak?" Abel supplied - there was a sputtering noise, and Denise immediately tried to cover up the fact that she'd nearly choked on her coffee in attempts to cover up her laughter.

"_Use the bathroom_, buddy. We're just gonna say _use the bathroom_," Juice corrected. Gemma rolled her eyes slightly and glanced over at Jax, who shrugged. There were worse phrases for a kid to pick up, and he wasn't about to freak out over that one.

Jax conceded to let his sons enjoy Juice and Denise's company for a while before _talking business_ with them - he'd kept them home from school because Abel was still pretty shook up and wheezing a little after having caught a big breath of smoke from the fire, so he figured he could miss a couple days of his ABC's and 123's. Having sent Gemma off to conference with Nero about calling in some _friends_ for their next move against Lin and to brief him about their new leverage, Jax had a while to spare before he'd told the other guys to meet for church. Gemma was the easiest means of handling Nero anyway, because she had way of getting what she needed to from him - Jax didn't need to ask any questions to be able to figure out what that way was. He had gone out for a smoke, but left the door slightly ajar to listen to his boys - Abel was playing a racing game with Juice, while Denise sat on the sofa behind them, bouncing Thomas gently and letting him watch.

"How come grandma said you and Aunt Deedee are getting married?" Abel asked, his gaze still fixed on the video game screen.

"Because we are, buddy. I'm gettin' hitched with Aunt Deedee real soon. I asked her last night," Juice said. "Because I love her."

"I like her a lot too. I don't think you guys should get married," he said simply. The statement caused a screeching noise to come from the television - Juice had flinched and the momentary lapse in concentration sent his car careening off the road, putting Abel in the lead.

"How come, buddy?"

"Because I like her. She looks kinda like Mulan," Abel shrugged, grinning at the screen as he realized that he was now winning. "Uncle Ope got married to Aunt Lyla and he died. Mommy got married to Daddy and she died. I don't think you should get married to Aunt Deedee. I like you both. I'll be mad if one of you guys goes to heaven."

From outside, Jax took a hard drag from his cigarette before yanking the door shut, unable to hear any more of the conversation - he felt bad enough, not being able to _be_ Daddy most of the time anymore because Daddy and Prez couldn't co-exist. He was either one or the other, and lately, he was always Prez. Knowing that now, Tara's death had tainted everything for his son - that it was turning his son bitter and cynical just like him - was even more painful. He clicked his jaw slightly, realizing that there was a telltale pressure behind his eyes. _Fuck_. He let out a hiss of breath and wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. Putting out his cigarette, he turned around and went back inside. Seeing that Thomas was comfortably sleeping while Denise bounced him gently, he cleared his throat and nodded for her to put him down in his carrier.

"Hey, buddy, I'm gonna borrow your playmates a minute. You watch your brother, okay?" Jax asked. Immediately, obediently, Abel put down the game controller and took up a post right next to the carrier while Denise put him down before following Juice to join Jax outside.

"You guys are making the right decision," Jax nodded, his tone flat. "We all win, right? We all keep our hands clean and everyone gets something they want." Juice nodded mutely, and Denise crossed her arms over herself - there was really no response to this. Taking this as his signal to continue, Jax cleared his throat, leaning back against the rickety wooden railing of the patio. "Listen. When people do right by me, I treat them right - and I'm not gonna send you two off to some half-ass courthouse wedding. Besides, we need to make a statement. I want word to get out that Henry Lin's niece is tying the knot, and that she's no longer under _his_ control. And that means visibility."

Denise grimaced slightly - she thought that agreeing to Jax's plans meant that she was _out_ of their sights. This certainly hadn't been part of her initial understanding, but there was no way to gracefully bow out now.

"I sent the guys over to your place - had to break in through the window, but it was a mess anyway," Jax said, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and lighting a new one. Afterwards, however, however, Jax pulled something out of his pocket, holding it out to Denise. Her eyes widened slightly she realized that they were the keys to her car. She accepted them, looking between them and Jax in confusion. "They grabbed anything you might need."

"You mean, I'm… not going back?" Denise asked, brow furrowing. "But what about school? I can't just -"

"Get in touch with anyone you need to, get out of the classes - you need to disappear until you tie the knot," Jax said. "You can't go back there."

"So, drop out," Denise said, looking particularly crestfallen. Juice's expression was again pained at the realization that she was doing this for him, and it was costing her dearly. But she didn't argue. She didn't fight back. She simply _accepted_ it, nodding quietly in resignation - the idea of Denise not fighting tempted Juice to throw the possibility of a pardon out the window and run off with her, but he knew that her submission was only to Jax, and that she was bending to what Jax was planning for the sake of paying off _his_ debt to the club, and to Jax personally. If Juice tried to get her to back out now, she wouldn't even entertain the suggestion.

Denise exhaled heavily and looked like she was going to speak up until an SUV pulled up in the driveway - Gemma had returned, this time with a man exiting the car from the passenger side with her. Juice took a step backwards, and Denise glanced back at him in confusion.

"Back in town," the man said, looking up the patio at Juice as he approached, but even Denise, who didn't understand anything about who this man was, could tell that there was nothing cordial about his tone. Gemma reached over, pausing the man in his tracks and nodding towards Denise, who cleared her throat uncomfortably. The man, who apparently already knew who she was, seemed to shift in demeanor to at least somewhat pleasant as he took his gaze away from Juice and reached his hand out to her instead.

"Heard all about you. Denise, right?" he asked in his slightly accented voice. "Nero Padilla. You're a brave girl, throwing your hand in with these guys. Brave or stupid."

"Yeah. Maybe I was never too bright, I guess. Asian brains skipped a generation," Denise laughed slightly, accepting his handshake. Apparently approving of the joke, he chuckled, giving her hand a slight squeeze, pointedly looking at her instead of Juice - Denise realized that Juice was more widely hated in Charming than she'd realized in the beginning, and she had truly thrown herself in the middle of something - she'd voluntarily become his human shield.

"Well, I'll tell you what, _hermana_," Nero said with a lopsided grin. "I can't say anything to your brains, honestly, if you're tying the knot to this guy here, but what you're doing takes a lot the right stuff. A lot of heart. No offense, but - more heart than I've come to expect from you Chinese."

"Gemma let you know about the plan?" Jax interrupted. Nero's smile faded, and his eyes returned briefly to Juice before meeting Jax's gaze.

"Yeah. You need security?"

"Most likely - we don't have a place set up for the wedding yet, but I don't want anyone showing up and trying to make off with the blushing bride -"

"You're planning our wedding?" Juice couldn't help but speak up, immediately regretting drawing everyone's gaze towards him. He cleared his throat, looking away, unable to meet any of their gazes quite yet. Jax, however, simply ignored him.

"Did you make contact with Alvarez? See if he can provide a little security?"

"Did what I could," Nero shrugged. "Won't commit - I can't tell if he's spooked or just waiting on a better offer. We'll just have to see. Everyone's caught wind of what happened to your house, Jax. I don't know if anyone wants to get in the middle of you and Lin -"

"Well, there's no way Lin is coming out on top," Jax sneered through gritted teeth. "Not while we have _Meimei_ on our side - and we owe that to Juice for getting here. I'll tell you one thing, the man knows how to pay off a debt," he added with a forced smile. Nero's jaw clenched as he looked over at Juice.

"Good lookin' out, kid," he managed to say, however grudgingly. "And - thank you. To your… girlfriend?"

"_Fiancee_," Denise corrected coolly. Nero nodded, rolling his shoulders slightly.

"Your uncle threatened my son. Killed my girls. You know that?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"No," she answered honestly. "But I can't say I'm surprised. I'm pretty sure the plan was to kill me -"

"The plan _I _heard was to sell you to me," Nero said, causing Denise's eyes to widen dramatically at his revelation. "Your Uncle was trying to make a deal with me. _Months_ ago. Said he had a niece who was drop dead gorgeous that my clients would be falling all over. Said that as long as I made sure you didn't get away, I'd get a cut of a big transaction he had coming through - I said I didn't _buy_ girls like that. Liked my girls to be happy. He didn't appreciate it."

Denise immediately decided that she liked this man - despite the fact that there was clearly bad blood between Nero and Juice, Denise felt grateful to him. She was Henry Lin's _only_ niece, and if she had done her job, handed Juice over and been as obedient as she'd been told, she would've been back here in Charming under very different terms. All of these people here would've _still_ been a part of her life, except for Juice.

"Th-thank you," she stammered, nodding weakly. At this, Gemma finally interrupted, reaching out and placing a hand on Denise's shoulder.

"You got a minute?" she asked. "Leave the men out here to talk for a while? I'm sure they've got plenty to discuss."

Denise and Juice both glanced at one another as though neither wanted this to be the case, but Gemma immediately swept her off, back into the house where the boys were still quiet inside. Abel immediately ran over to grab his grandmother tightly around her legs as she closed the door behind her.

"Hey baby," Gemma said, leaning over and kissing her grandson's forehead fondly. "Gimme a minute with your Aunt Deedee, okay?"

They continued onward to the guest bedroom - apparently the de facto headquarters for private conversations in Juice's house, which now seemed to be more of a boarding house than anything else - and Gemma again closed the door behind her.

"Those boys," Gemma said quietly, gesturing towards the door, "are my _life_. You get that, right, Dee?" She looked up, and Denise nodded slowly. "I know that you _know_, Denise. And I hope you understand, if I get put away, I lose them. And I won't let anyone do that to my family. You're getting real close, babydoll, and the closer you get, the more of a position you're in to mess up everything I've been working on holding together."

For a moment, Denise felt genuinely terrified, being alone in a room with Gemma and having this conversation. She unwittingly took a few steps away, and Gemma took a few steps closer, clearly the dominant party in the conversation.

"You realize that you're putting your family on the chopping block?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she stalked closer to Denise, who nodded again, still mute and unable to respond. "For something you know they didn't do? Because you need to take this secret with you to the grave, just as much as I do," she said, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "You need to take it with you to the grave, even if I need to be the one to _put_ you in it."

The way she _said _it, Denise realized, was so frank that there was no mistaking how much she meant it. Now visibly shaking, Denise simply continued nodding, and Gemma sighed, shaking her head and briefly looking away from the terrified young woman in front of her to give her a chance to regain her bearings.

"You're sure you can do this for Juice?" Gemma asked, still looking at the pointed toe of her boot. "You're sure you can go through with helping Jax destroy your family for something they didn't do?"

"There's nothing good in my family left to save," Denise said, her voice small but still laced with a hidden sort of strength. Gemma finally looked up and locked eyes with the girl again to find that in the brief seconds of relief, she had turned right back into the fiery-eyed young girl that Gemma had first met, the girl she'd seen stop Jax in his tracks by putting herself in front of Juice. Denise let out a heaving sigh that visibly shrugged her shoulders. "I'm alone. I'm terrified. And I'm going to look out for Juice because I don't have anyone else anymore," she said honestly.

Gemma glanced her over, crossing her arms over herself while Denise squirmed slightly under the older woman's scrutiny. "The point of this wasn't to scare you. Hell, I like you," Gemma shrugged, causing Denise's eyebrows to leap in surprise. Gemma gave a weak laugh, knowing that her way of _liking_ anyone was unorthodox at best. "More importantly, the boys like you. Because you're kind of like… like_ her_."

Denise's breath caught in her throat, knowing even without any explanation that by _her_, Gemma meant Tara - the boys' mother. The older woman gave a laugh, this one sadder and weaker than the last. "That's all I got for ya, Deedee," she shrugged. "Just wanted to be sure we understood each other."

"Yeah," Denise nodded, smiling weakly. "Absolutely. Understood."

She felt slightly queasy, admittedly, when Gemma opened the door and nodded for her to head out, but she felt a wave over relief when at about the same time, the front door opened and the men entered. More importantly, _Juice_ entered, looking at least no worse than he did when she'd left him outside. They hadn't hurt him, at least. Jax, however, was the first to speak up.

"We're hammering out the details. Your wedding is this Sunday," he said flatly. "You have six days to get ready."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Another update, another author's note! This was a very 'talky' chapter, not a lot of action, but I recommend you enjoy the calm before the storm, because this story certainly doesn't end in happily ever after once "I do" is said._

_This is just a heads up that I'm moving into a new apartment this weekend and am going to be juggling moving with still getting acclimated to my new job. I'm a nurse and just finished week 3 of my new job, so it's been a real roller coaster getting settled in, but your reviews, plus the great stories that I've had the pleasure of reading lately in the SOA fandom have made the transition so much more bearable – and I mean that from the bottom of my. I have serious love for you guys._

_Anyway, the next couple of updates might not come as quickly as they've been coming, but I'm going to do my absolute best. In the meantime, I have a question that maybe you guys can help me with! I've been doing some episode reviewing and Googling but have been unable to find a definitive answer. Does SOA canon ever explicitly give Juice's mother a name? It might come in handy for me in later chapters._

_Until next time, cheers!_


	23. Chapter 23

_"What do you mean you dropped out?"_

Denise flinched at the shrill sound of Melissa's voice over the phone, but cleared her throat uncomfortably, trying to build some semblance of confidence. Had it been so outlandish for her to expect that Melissa would just be _happy_ about the news, no questions asked? "Never mind - I wanted to know if you would come to a wedding this Sunday. _My _wedding."

"You're dropping out of school and getting married?" Melissa said loudly, so much so that Denise actually had to hold the phone away from her ear. "To Juan? Why? Shit, are you pregnant?"

"No!" Denise defended, "Absolutely not. Definitely not - we just figure, if we have something good, why wait?"

There was silence on the other end while Melissa processed the news - sure, Denise had changed in the short while since Juan Ortiz had come into her house and into her life, but all of this seemed so sudden. She couldn't possibly have changed _this_ much. Denise Kwan was not impulsive. She didn't do things without thinking them through, without carefully determining whether or not she would benefit from them. Denise sighed, knowing that despite the fact that she had never treated Melissa as much of a friend, Melissa had always _been_ a friend to her, and she could see right through her.

"I want you to come," Denise continued. "And I know it's crazy, but - I really want you and Harvey and everyone else to be there. I'll text you the details, and you can decide later, alright?"

Truth be told, she _needed_ Melissa to come. She'd been told explicitly by Jax that he _wanted_ word to get out quickly once the wedding was over - she couldn't find the right way to explain that she had very few friends through which to spread her wedding announcement. Denise sucked in a breath and waited while the woman on the other end seemed to mull over the possibility. Finally, after what felt like hours, a small laugh came from Melissa's end of the phone.

"Alright. I'll be there," Melissa said, and Denise finally was able to exhale. "This is crazy, but I kind of _love_ it. I don't know what's gotten into you ever since you met this guy, but - you've really changed. A _lot_.

"You have no idea," Denise laughed weakly. "But hey - you have class, right? I'll just see you when I see you?"

"Yeah, I gotta go. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Hanging up and tucking her phone into the pocket of her jeans, Denise looked up in time to see a car pull up to where she was waiting on the front porch. The car parked and a blonde haired woman came out - Denise could only assume that this was Lyla, who she had been told to wait for. She paused at the bottom of the steps, perching her well-manicured hand on her hip and cocking her head to one side.

"You ready to go? We only have a few hours before the kids get outta school and Jax asked me to get you ready for your big day."

Denise felt a little uncomfortable, getting into the passenger seat of the car with Lyla, but she went along anyway as part of the plan Jax had laid out. Lyla gave the younger woman a sidelong glance as they made off down the street, chuckling slightly.

"I don't bite, you know," she smiled, eliciting a weak laugh from Denise. "So you're marrying that idiot. Congratulations."

Glancing over at the woman, Denise realized that despite her joking tone, she meant what she said. Still trying to break the ice Lyla went on to mention that being one of Nero's girls wouldn't have been too bad, that the man was a good boss, a good _companionator_ as he called it, and that things had mostly just been slipping because Gemma distracted him from doing good work.

"So is this one of those... girls' day shopping things?" Denise suddenly spoke up, drawing one of her legs up and resting her foot on the seat, resting the side of her head on her knee. "Because I should warn you, I'm really no good at this kind of thing. Couldn't you just… pick something out for me?" Lyla couldn't help but laugh at her.

"You don't have very many friends, do you, honey?"

Denise shook her head, looking away in embarrassment. Melissa was honestly the closest she had to a best friend - she had always been more of a tomboy growing up who had more fights than playdates, and had carried the habit of not getting close to many people into her adulthood. Lyla's ruby red lips quirked into a grin just as they pulled up to a store - a bridal boutique.

"Well, I'll tell you what - marrying one of those guys can be shitty no matter how much you love 'em," Lyla said frankly. "So I've always thought it was better for us ladies to stick together. And no, I'm not going to let you sit out picking your own wedding dress - because I like you, Dee. C'mon," she nodded.

Denise admittedly was a little overwhelmed by the fact that she was now in an entire store full of dresses - Lyla thankfully did most of the talking, but just having to _look_ at all of this was overwhelming. Seeing that Denise looked clearly overloaded, Lyla walked over to her.

"You seem like a lace kind of girl, and rumor has it that Juice is a lace kind of guy," Lyla said with a grin. "Try that one," she said, nodding towards one of the pieces sealed up into plastic dress bag. "Jax already talked to the owner, said they can make it happen -"

"He finagled me a free wedding dress?"

"Well, he has pull in this town, in case you didn't notice," Lyla chuckled. "Besides, this is Charming, not Malibu. All of these are knock-offs. Very _good_ ones, but still knock-offs. At least he didn't need to threaten the owner like the priest for Sunday-"

"He threatened a _priest?_" Denise interrupted, her eyes going wide. "We're going to hell for this one. We're all going to hell. I don't even get why we're _having_ a wedding like this."

Lyla laughed and joined Denise in thumbing through the display racks of dresses, saying nothing the most part as though unsure until finally, she reached out and placed her hand on the same dress as Denise, pausing her shirt and drawing her attention.

"Listen - I know we don't know each other," Lyla said, sounding almost nervous over the conversation she was starting in notably hushed tones. "But I really appreciate what you're doing for us - with Lin, I mean. Those girls at Diosa were my friends, and the only reason I didn't die in there with them was because I left to get the kids," she shrugged. "And I want to get back at Lin just as bad as anyone else. I know it doesn't make sense, but... this wedding matters to us. They made a show of killing my friends, so maybe it just.. it feels good making a show of the fact that we've got _you._"

Denise laughed weakly, looking away and turning back to the rack of dresses - how did one respond to that? _Oh sure! I'm really enjoying being a pawn in everyone's plans, it's no problem at all!_

"This one!" Lyla chimed in suddenly, pulling one of the dresses out of the row it out to Denise. "It's a little long, but they'll take care of that. I know somebody who alters everything I need, they'll make sure it fits like a glove," she explained. "Dee, you're gonna look gorgeous in this one. _Trust me._"

But Denise, it turned out, was a little harder to sell on any of the dresses than even she herself expected - she didn't like trains. She didn't like beads. She didn't like any dress that had the word "mermaid" on the tag. Eventually, Lyla realized with an amused grin that the latter was because she simply couldn't walk in them, so she immediately suggested a dress with one feature in particular - a slit in the front, so she would be able to walk somewhat normally. At first, Denise held it out in front of her and stared at it warily - she was tired of putting on dresses and quite frankly would have liked to ask the owner for a nice pant suit or something if not for the fact that she was fairly sure Lyla would strangle her with a acy elastic garter if she tried. So, sighing in resignation, she agreed to try on _one_ more before they called it quits for the day.

It took her a short while to shimmy into the dress in the dressing room, but when she came out, Lyla crossed her arms and nodded in approval - for one thing, Denise wasn't frowning like she was being tortured in this dress, which in and of itself was an achievement. Lyla mentally gave herself a pat on the back for this one.

"I think we have a winner," she grinned in approval.

Once everything was squared away, Lyla laughed at the look of relief on Denise's face when they returned to the car, far away from the need to put on any more dresses. Before starting the car up again, she reached into the back seat behind Denise and pulled out a rectangular black case - it looked like a small briefcase - and put it down on the seat next to the younger girl.

"I almost forgot," she said matter-of-factly while Denise slowly flicked open the locks and flipped the top of the case open. "Wedding present from _el presidente_."

"A _Beretta_?"

"I'll admit, it doesn't go with many outfits," Lyla said with a smirk. "But when you're one of us, you never know when you're gonna need it."

* * *

><p>Harvey stood at the spot at the edge of campus by the street where the smoker s gathered - not because he was a smoker himself, but because it seemed like the place to be when he was in such a foul mood. He'd just heard from Melissa about Denise's big news and honestly felt a little short-changed. He'd been trying to make good with Denise for years now without so much as a one night stand, then this Juan Ortiz waltzed into her life and had her rushing down the aisle within a couple of months.<p>

He looked up in time to see a shiny black sports car pull up in front of him, and Harvey took a hesitant step backwards as the driver's side window rolled down to reveal a man in sunglasses - once removed, Harvey realized that it was Denise's brother.

_Amazing_ timing.

"Harvey, isn't it?" Charles asked politely, gesturing for Harvey to come closer so they wouldn't need to talk quite as loudly. "I've been trying to get a hold of some of Denise's friends, do you have a minute?"

"Just barely," Harvey said, glancing down at the time on his phone - he was, in fact, halfway across campus from a class that started in five minutes, but he felt reasonably sure that Charles Kwan wasn't looking for smalltalk.

"I've just been worried about her," Charles said easily. "She's been out of touch for a while - making a lot of really bad decisions."

"Well, she's about to make a _worse_ one," Harvey snorted derisively. "Listen, I have to go, but just a heads up - you might want to talk her out of shacking up with that freeloading Ortiz guy before you end up an uncle."

Charles attempted to stop Harvey from leaving, but to no avail - the scrawny, faux-bespectacled white boy had hurried off in the other direction. But no matter, Charles decided. He had at least delivered a vital piece of information: not only did SAMCRO know about the money, there was a very real possibility that they had figured out the loophole in the legalities that would allow them to get a hold of it.

But Denise would _never_, Charles convinced himself. She may not have been properly feminine - she may have been far from ideal - but she didn't so much as condone meaningless hookups. The only way she would ever agree to something of this magnitude was if she had really fallen for him. She _couldn't_ have. But if she had…

Rolling up his window, Charles made his decision: he would fix this without Uncle knowing. He had to.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Just a short chapter to tide you over for now! Just a few small details to set the stage for things in upcoming chapters. The next chapter will contain a very eventful day in more ways than one. I'll hopefully be able to get it edited and posted soon! Until then, cheers and enjoy tonight's episode!_


	24. Chapter 24

"You wash your hands any more, your ring might not fit, boy."

Juice looked up at the bathroom mirror and saw that Chibs was outside of the bathroom behind him in the motel where they'd set him up to get ready. It went without saying of course that he was nervous, so much so that it was gnawing away at him inside. But he and Denise had agreed - they loved one another, and it was better they do this _together_, anyway. Juice turned around and looked down at his hands, rolling his sleeves down and noticing that he'd wrinkled them, having kept them folded for so long. He grimaced slightly and made to fix them before Chibs reached forward, swatting his hands away.

"For someone who's supposed to be getting married in an hour, you don't look very pleased," he pointed out, raising his eyebrows. "They sent me over because they were worried you'd get cold feet - don't make me tell them they were right."

Juice wouldn't have run out on Denise, of course - but to say that the idea didn't cross his mind would be lie. This wasn't like Opie's wedding to Lyla. Everyone would be there, sure, but they would be there because Jax had made it a requirement to do so, a symbolic gesture that SAMCRO was orchestrating a takeover and getting control of Meimei. Weddings weren't meant to be acts of retaliation - and yet, here they were.

"No word from Alvarez about… about any extra security, then?" Juice asked nervously, picking at the hems of his sleeves. He was clad in a plain dress shirt and slacks. He harbored no delusions of being able to wear his kutte again, of course. It would have been a little less anxiety-inducing, however, knowing there was someone extra around to make sure Denise stayed safe today. Chibs shook his head. No such luck.

"We don't need the Mayans anyway. Bunch of dirty cowards," Chibs sneered slightly. "We're more than capable of delivering your bride safely across town."

Juice laughed weakly at the fact that Denise was his _bride_ - she was going to be his wife. Just a couple of months ago, she was the very strange, admittedly very _hot_ girl he was living with, the girl he had a _thing_ with. He shook his head, reflexively smoothing his hands over his sleeves again.

"I never thought I'd see this," Chibs said, crossing his arms. "You, loving anything as much as the club."

"I love her _more_," Juice said, shuffling his feet slightly. "And believe me, I fought it as long as I could. I shoulda stayed away from her, from Charming, but - well, the second I ran to her on the street in Stockton, I guess I was a goner anyway," he shrugged with a lopsided grin. Chibs, on the other hand, didn't respond further - he simply remained silent for a few moments before clearing his throat.

"C'mon, boy," he said, nodding towards the door - but Juice felt a strength sense of levity in the fact that he saw one side of the older man's mouth quirk upwards, almost into a smile as well. "You've got an appointment with a priest and a pretty lass that you can't afford to miss."

* * *

><p>"You still feel good about pushing them into this?"<p>

Jax didn't acknowledge the question from his mother as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him, watching Juice and Denise exchange their wedding vows - but he heard it. He had definitely heard it, just like he'd heard Abel railing on and on about how Aunt Deedee looked like a princess.

This wasn't like Opie's wedding, Jax recalled with stab of pain in his chest at the thought. There were some of the same faces, but this wasn't celebration for a _brother_. This was a business deal, and as such, most faces remained mostly stoic as the ceremony began. Funny enough, the fact that Chibs cleared his throat a few minutes in drew everyone's attention to him for a brief moment - the expression on his face was like permission for this day to mean something, even just a little.

"No part of you did this as a favor for Juice? As an old friend?" Gemma continued. Again, Jax didn't even dignify the suggestion with a response, but this time, when his gaze returned to the altar, he felt a sense of resignation. A part of him _did_ still regard Juice as one of them - as much as this entire event was symbolic and strategic, it had obviously not evaded his attention that being with this girl was good for the guy, and he was in truth, in dire need of someone good for him. He'd meant it when he said they _all_ had something to gain from it.

That didn't meant he needed to admit it, though. Besides, it wasn't as though it was only he who had shown weakness, after all. The others were all here as well, and behaving. Perhaps, granted, it was only out of respect for the fact that Denise was a young girl and didn't deserve to have anyone raise hell at a wedding she was only having for all of their sakes anyway. As far over the line they'd gone, there was still a sense of honor among them. But they had all agreed, getting their hands on her was worth turning the other cheek when it came to Juice - not to trust him again, but to move on.

"_I, Juan Carlos Ortiz…"_

"_I, Denise Mei-xiu Kwan…"_

"_Take you to be my lawfully wedded wife…  
><em>

"_...my lawfully wedded husband…"_

"_...my constant friend and faithful partner, my love from this day forward, in sickness and health, in good times and in bad, in joy and in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to honor, respect, and cherish you, all the days of my life..."_

There was a brief moment when Denise, who already had a wedding ring on her finger, hesitated before slipping the ring onto Juice's, but after a second of wordless contemplation that evaded no one's notice, she inhaled deeply and slid the ring onto his ring finger, smoothly over his knuckle.

"_With this ring, I thee wed."_

"_Then by the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."_

"Sweet," Juice said with a goofy laugh before, without hesitation, moving the veil away from Denise's face with one hand and resting the other hand on the back of her neck, pulling her to him and enveloping him in a heated kiss.

He could have sworn he felt his heart stop when he heard the others actually cheer - including the voices of the club, the men he had for so long considered brothers. Whether or not they were genuinely happy for _him_, whether or not they were just already drunk out of the flasks they were probably carrying, it didn't matter. He finally pulled back and looked at Denise, who was flushed and breathless, smiling widely.

They had just made it out of the church to get into the car driven by Unser when, seated in the backseat, they finally looked at each other, still with exhilarated smiles - Juice shook his head and laughed, running a hand over his head.

"Babe," he said incredulously. "What the hell did we just do?"

Denise simply laughed, looping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure we just got married," she laughed. She crossed her legs comfortably and Juice was finally able to appreciate the fact that Lyla had helped her pick out a dress with a _very_ high slit. He grinned wolfishly before his eye briefly caught sight of something - but Denise quickly adjusted the fabric and obstructed his view. Whatever it was, he decided, there would be better times to press her for details.

They had quickly thrown together a reception space near Juice's house - just some tables and a makeshift bar inside the old town hall space. It was here that Denise finally realized Melissa, Harvey, and a handful of her other friends actually _had_ come. Melissa, in particular, rushed forward and threw her arms around her friend, already slightly buzzed. The other girls followed suit, but Harvey hung back slightly, his smile visibly forced.

"You look _gorgeous_," Melissa squealed. Denise briefly caught Lyla's eye, and the older woman gave her a smirk before getting back to getting Ellie and Kenny settled.

"You blindsided us - couple of lovebirds, you," Harvey joked, clapping Juice on the shoulder a little harder than he probably needed to. But Juice knew now that there was no reason to get jealous of _Handsy Harvey_. Not anymore. He returned the gesture even harder with a broad grin.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "Dee's got me under a spell."

"Denise. You didn't invite your brother?" Harvey said, turning abruptly and looking for whatever reason he could to address Denise. "No wonder he was a little off. He pulled up on campus a few days ago, he seemed just as surprised as I was -"

"_What_?" Denise snapped loudly, her eyes widening. The leap in the volume of her voice caught the attention of some of the others nearby, including Jax. Denise's breath seemed to hitch in her throat as she locked eyes with Juice - her new _husband _- at the fact that Charles already knew. Juice reached out and squeezed her hand, however, and put on what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

The rest of the reception went on without a hitch, in any case, unless the fact that some of the kids drink very nearly got swapped with the adult beverages counted as a hitch, despite the fact that it was artfully prevented. It was nearly midnight when Melissa, Harvey, and crew said that they needed to head back to their motel for the night because they still had class in the morning. Denise briefly excused herself to walk them out and had started helping the more drunk ones among them into their rented van outside of the door when a man climbed out of a parked, unlit car and burst into the hall, not noticing that Denise was outside.

"_Abel, no!_"

Denise had shoved her friends into their van and ducked down, but turned at the sound of Jax's voice and the sight of an armed man holding the young boy in his arms, covering his mouth and holding a gun to his head. The others had drawn their guns on him, but froze as they realized they didn't have a clear shot. "Just let _Meimei_ leave with me, and he goes free," the man said. "Where is _Meimei_-"

But before he could finish his demand, a single shot rang - not fatal, but directly to his right shoulder over his shoulderblade, causing him to drop both his gun and Abel with a cry of agony. Abel tearfully scrambled away, and all eyes briefly flew to the figure in the doorway.

"_Meimei _is right here," Denise said, lowering the Beretta in her hand from her spot outside the door. Her dress was now disheveled, revealing the holster situated high up her thigh that she'd been able to reach because of the slit in her dress. While Happy and Tig rushed forward and scooped the man off of the ground, out back to take care of him, Denise rushed past them and back to Juice, her gun still in her hand, handing it off to him before looking over to Jax and Gemma, who were both consoling a distraught Abel.

"It was Harvey," Denise said, shaking her head and speaking aloud. "They all drove off already but I know it had to have been him who tipped off Charles. He said so earlier, I just - I didn't put two and two together," Denise's voice grew higher in pitch, squeaking only barely through a tight, constricted throat as she fought back a sense of panic. Charles wasn't supposed to know yet."We need to go back to the house where it's safe - if Charles knows, then he can't be the only one."

* * *

><p>This certainly wasn't the way Juice had thought he and Denise would be spending their wedding night, he realized once they had returned to the house with Jax, Gemma, and the boys while the others went to run surveillance to be sure none of Charles or Henry's men were lurking around town. Abel was panicked and inconsolable from where he sat on the sofa, still flailing and crying until Denise, still clad in her wedding dress, came over with a glass of water and a story - an old Chinese folk story that her grandfather used to tell her.<p>

"And anything that Ma Liang drew with his magic paintbrush became real - people would come to him for help every day. When the farmers' fields became dry, he drew them a river. When the clouds came out, he drew them a sun in the middle of a blue sky," Denise said, while Abel looked up at her in rapt attention. "But one day, a bad man in the village sent his men to take Ma Liang's magic brush, because he wanted to use it to make himself rich -"

"He's a _bad_ Chinese," Abel interrupted. "Like the bad guys you're hiding from. Like the bad guy today."

Denise's eyebrows leapt slightly as she realized that Abel knew more than he let on, but she cleared her throat and nodded. "But remember what happened today? Those bad guys don't get to win," she continued. "Because when the bad man took Ma Liang's brush, nothing he painted came to life because his heart was _evil_. And only good hearts can use magic."

"I have a good heart," Abel spoke up again. "My mommy fixed it for me when I was real small… so it's real good... if I had a magic brush that could stuff to life, I would paint my mommy..." He gave a small sniffle, and Denise froze momentarily, unsure of what to do but not willing to look to anyone else for answers. Abel, however, quickly regained his composure and wiped his eyes. "What happened next?" he asked.

"Well, the bad man sent his men to bring Ma Liang to him, and he said if Ma Liang gave him everything he wanted, then he would leave forever and leave Ma Liang and his family alone," Denise explained. "But Ma Liang wasn't only kind - he was very smart, and he had an idea. The bad man said that he wanted a golden mountain overflowing with riches, and a boat big enough to carry it.

"So Ma Liang took the magic brush and painted him a golden mountain, an ocean, and a beautiful ship to sail away in with his riches - the bad man laughed and laughed as he stood on the ship, leaving Ma Liang and his family on the shore. But as the bad man sailed away, Ma Liang took his brush and painted a huge wave on the ocean. The bad man's ship was so heavy, it couldn't turn around, and he was swept away forever. Ma Liang and his family went back to using the magic paintbrush to help others, and their town was a peaceful, prosperous place for as long as they lived…"

He fell asleep, her head resting against Denise's abdomen and his arms wrapped around her waist - he had initially been clinging to her tightly, but as he dozed off, his hold loosened. Juice stood dutifully behind the sofa, his hands on Denise's bare shoulders, gripping them reassuringly.

"What now?" Denise asked tiredly, still awestruck by the fact that her _wedding day_ had gone so far awry. Jax was seated in the armchair across the room with Gemma leaning against the side - he had his hands clasped over his mouth, and he exhaled heavily through his nostrils.

"We push forward with the plan. You two are skipping town until it's safe - until we've cleaned up this mess with Lin," Jax nodded, his gaze angry and unfocused. "I want _zero_ chance of the two of you getting caught in the crossfire because I don't want any way for any of them to get their hands on that money again."

The money. Denise let out a breath in a slow hiss as she mentally cursed that fact that the money had been left to her at all - but it was too late now. She couldn't _fault_ Jax now for wanting to fast-track his revenge after he had very nearly lost his son because of Henry Lin _again_. This was no longer just about _Tara_.

"You said you had a place to lay low, Dee?" Gemma spoke up, reaching out and placing a hand on her son's back. She nodded in response. "You gonna be able to get there?"

"We have a cabin in Nevada. Lovelock," Denise explained. "Charles doesn't know where it is - he never came out with us. Hated the outdoors."

"You two need to leave tonight," Jax said, his hands still folded in front of his face. "After they finish clearing the area. Here -"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two sets of keys, holding them out. Juice stepped forward to take them so Denise wouldn't need to disrupt Abel from sleeping, and for a moment, he stared at the keys in his hands. Denise understood why she couldn't take her own car, there was too much of a chance for her to be recognized. She squinted slightly, craning her neck to see what had Juice so attentive to the keys in his hand.

"You good following your wife on your bike?" Jax asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. "It's parked out back - I need to be sure that you guys can bolt in opposite directions if shit pops off."

"I'll make sure to go slow for him," Denise said with a mild smirk. Juice excused to himself to go and pack their things so Denise wouldn't need to get up. Again, the room was silent while Jax simply stared at his son. Denise felt herself grow slightly squirmy, being in the approximate vicinty of his gaze but going unnoticed until he eventually addressed her as well.

"Thank you, Dee," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. "For taking that shot. No one else had an angle on the guy, if you hadn't been there -"

"Of course I was there, it was my wedding," she chuckled gently. "Besides, you're the one who thought to give me a handgun as a wedding present. You had this covered."

"You did good today, Deedee. Quit being so modest," Gemma said. "Own that shit, sweetie."

Denise gave a small laugh again, gently bracing Abel's head so he wouldn't get jostled with the gentle movement of her stomach. She looked down at herself and grinned weakly at the fact that she was still in her wedding dress just as a knock came to the door.

"5 and 99 are clear for miles in all directions," Tig spoke up immediately when Gemma pulled the door open for him. "Happy and Chibs went ahead to scout the state line in case we got any Chinks lurking on the roadside. The lovebirds should have a clear shot out of town."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Just a quick note to say that **wabi-sabi1090** called it. The wedding most definitely went off with a bang. I'm going to be attending trainings for work, pretty much nut to butt for a while, so while I hope to squeeze an update in somewhere, I don't have a ton of wiggle room until the middle of next week. But in the meantime - I received a suggestion on Tumblr that I should have a playlist or suggested song for each chapter, which is something I really haven't done before. Is that something you guys would be interested in seeing? Think about it and get back to me! Cheers!_


	25. Chapter 25

*_Mild Smut Warning for later in the chapter._

* * *

><p>99 North to 80 East - clear through Reno, all the way into Pershing County. Denise had given Juice clear enough directions to follow on his bike in case they got separated on the road, but at one A.M. on a Monday, it was highly unlikely. Juice admittedly got off on the fact that he was back on his bike - that it had actually been given back to him. The feeling of being back in his element, back in a zone that was welcome and familiar, was likely the reason that he was able to keep up with any speed that Denise settled on. And he knew how that woman drove.<p>

Over the course of the drive, Juice felt comfortable enough on the lonely road to pull up next to Denise's car and grin as he spied her singing out loud through her open window. He would laugh at her for a while before she sped off ahead of him again.

They stopped at a dated-looking Safeway grocery store in Lovelock, where Denise bought an ice chest, a hot plate, and a limited assortment of groceries with a wad of cash out of her pocket. Something about how shady it looked - on top of the fact that Juice had been suckered out of a proper honeymoon with the woman who was now legally and properly his wife - caused him to bite his lip in slight anticipation as he waited outside for her. She shoved the groceries in her trunk before walking over to him, cocking her head to one side and glancing him over. Juice was still wearing his helmet and riding glasses, and though he was clearly minus a kutte and clad in a zippered hoodie instead, Denise could just imagine - this was Juice before they'd met. She gave a lopsided grin and looked down at herself in ripped, slightly baggy jeans, a tanktop, and a zipped-up hoodie of her own. Her hair was a mess, falling in unkempt waves over her shoulders as it had been twisted and pinned up all day. He ran his hand gently over it on one side and chuckled at the slight crunchy sensation of copious amounts of hairspray - definitely Lyla's doing. There was something strange and refreshing about, for the first time, being truly real - seeing the person that the other had always been and still being ass-over-elbows for them.

"You good, babe?" Denise asked before leaning up and briefly pressing her lips to his. Unsatisfied, he pulled her back in by the crook of the arm and kissed her more deeply before replying.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"We've been driving for four hours and my ass is starting to hurt," Denise chuckled, crossing her arms over herself. "But it's not far from here. Once we get there, I just need to let Jax know we got here safe," she shrugged, patting her pocket where she'd tucked away the burner Jax had handed her before they took off. "And then..."

"And then what, Mrs. Ortiz?" Juice asked with an anticipatory smirk. Denise mirrored the expression briefly before reaching out and tracing a fingertip over the side of his cheek.

"And then you'll just have to wait and see, Mr. Ortiz," she grinned devilishly before turning on her heel and retreating back to the car.

Juice, of course, didn't want to have to wait too long to see - if he'd known the way himself to their destination, he was sure he could've cut the drive time in half out of sheer anticipation. When Denise had been putting away the groceries, he'd done his best not to get ideas from the fact that she was bent over the trunk, arranging things so they wouldn't fall. But when he caught a brief glimpse of white lace when her baggy jeans shifted slightly, he was confident that there was indeed something to be anticipating, and he most definitely wanted to cut short the transition between anticipation and _action_.

They passed speedily through the rest of the sleepy town of Lovelock, out into the expanse of flatland on its outskirts. It was a short while before he saw Denise make an abrupt turn onto a side road that made the tires of the old brown Pinto with Colorado plates that they'd given her squeal. At the end of the unpaved road was a cabin - not a tiny shack like Juice had admittedly been expecting, but one that, despite being unlit from disuse, looked large and well-kept even in the distance.

He followed and hung back after stopping his bike by a wooden fence when he saw Denise park and step out of the car, pulling the old potato of a phone from her pocket. "It's Dee," she said abruptly, holding the burner close to her ear. "Just calling to say we made it. Keep me updated."

The instant she hung up, she was met by Juice picking her up from behind and scooping her into his arms, almost effortlessly carrying her down the dirt driveway towards the house. She laughed, squirming slightly to reach the keys in her pocket. When they reached the patio and Juice sidestepped his way up the slightly creaking front steps, Denise had to lean over and unlock the door, turning the knob so it was slightly ajar and Juice could do the honors of kicking it completely open to carry her over the threshold. He gave her a slight spin before placing her down on her feet and kissing her soundly on the mouth.

"Have I told you that you're fuckin' gorgeous?" he said with a lopsided grin. Denise flushed slightly and attempted to play it off, socking him playfully in the shoulder.

"I went into the trouble of putting on that goddamn dress and those heels all day, and you're getting off on this? These jeans are awful," she asked incredulously, looking down at herself and kicking off her shoes, which were already only halfway on to begin with. She knew the clothes were awful, and a couple months ago, that was what she liked about them - they were awful and drove people away. A couple of months ago, that was precisely what she wanted. "God, Juice," she continued, laughing and shaking her head. "You make me question your taste."

"It's not the jeans I'm getting off on," he chuckled - he hooked the index finger of one hand through the beltloop of her oversized jeans, tugged slightly, and took an exaggerated peek, confirming his earlier observation. There was definitely lace under there. Very little lace, and nothing more. Denise's expression shifted to a wan smile as she gently swatted his hand away, putting her arms gently around his shoulders and pulling him closer so their faces were again inches away from one another.

"Well," she grinned coyly, "if the jeans aren't doing anything for you, then maybe we should just…"

Juice clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping - he was unable to hold back an audible gulp as Denise reached down with one hand to unbutton her jeans, shimmying them down and kicking them off. She calmly removed her other hand from Juice's shoulder and pulled off the sweatshirt and tanktop so she was standing in front of him in a lacy set of white lingerie.

"_...get rid of them_."

Juice remained stunned by her sudden state of undress for only a few brief seconds before he launched forward, removing his own hoodie and kicking off his jeans so that he was only in his boxers. He let out a low growl, lifting her up in one fluid motion so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, easily supported on his hipbones. Feeling his own knees grow slightly weaker when Denise let out a whimper and rocked her hips against his, he maneuvered a few steps so he had her backed against the nearest wall, rather than risking dropping her.

"Hold on tight. Safety first, baby," he chuckled with a lopsided grin, breaking the airtight seal of their kiss only momentarily before claiming her mouth with his again. It felt like it had been years since he'd had her like this, since they'd been alone with free reign to just _go at it_. Ever since coming to Charming and being limited to the bedroom while Jax's family was still holed up in their living room, Juice had admittedly been missing the feeling of having their own place in Stockton where they could throw caution to the wind - but now, it was different. Now, she was _really_ his. His hands dug into the gentle curves of her waist, and he moved his mouth to rake his teeth over the pale skin of her neck.

"_Goddamit, Juice_," Denise moaned breathlessly. The feeling of fingernails digging into his shoulders was finally enough to drive him over the edge. He reached one hand down to move aside the delicate white lace - he couldn't be bothered to break contact long enough to take it off of her, nor could he separate from her long enough to remove his own boxers - and plunged his length into her. She gave another groan and buried her head into his shoulder, digging her teeth gently into the skin of his chest just above one of his tattoos.

"Baby," he said with a throaty laugh, breathless and unable to relent in his rhythmic movement, grinding himself against her. "We're not in Charming anymore, you don't needa be quiet."

"You… haven't given me reason not to be… yet…" Denise said, looking up and flipping a wisp of hair out of her face with a troublemaker's smirk plastered across her face. Juice reluctantly paused, resting his forehead against hers and raising his eyebrow challengingly. He had paused, still deeply embedded inside of her, pressing her back against the wall and freeing up one hand to tilt her chin. He gently bit her full lower lip, eliciting a delectably vulnerable moan from her before she closed her mouth tightly. Juice felt himself throb inside of her - the idea that she was so determined to remain in control drove him out of his head.

"Are you sure?" he asked, rolling his hips against hers before thrusting again, pushing her slightly higher up the wall. "No reason?"

"Still waiting, Mr. Ortiz," she panted, her eyes hooded and lustful despite the devilish expression that played upon her lips.

"Well, then I intend to change that real quick… _Mrs. Ortiz_," he smirked.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Juice and Denise sat half-clad on the living room floor, attempting to heat up water on the electric hot plate to make hot cocoa with. When they finally managed to get it hot enough and poured into the cheap melamine mugs from the store, they briefly tapped the mugs together.<p>

"To us?"

"To us."

Peering out the window, Denise noticed that the pitch blackness was beginning to lighten to a deep, inky blue. A small smile settled onto her face as she got to her feet, nodding for Juice to do the same.

He followed her up the staircase, through the upstairs halls, and watched as she expertly jumped up and flicked a latch on the ceiling. Another brief hop and she had tapped open a skylight with her fist.

"C'mon," she said with an almost childlike look of excitement. Juice stepped forward to help her up, only to find that she was very much capable of getting through on her own, pulling herself over the ledge with her hands.

Juice followed her lead when she lay down on her back on the roof, looking up at the sky. It was then that he realized that it was so quiet - no one and nothing around, no sounds of cars and bikes flying down the roads. In the distance, he could just barely make out the lights of the nearest businesses like tiny Lite Brite pegs.

"I used to come out here all the time when we took trips out here. It was always just me, Papa, and Grandpa," she said, her voice lower and slightly raspy with her growing sleepiness. Juice was only now realizing that they had been up for nearly an entire day straight. "This was my favorite place..."

"It seems a little lonely," Juice observed. Denise laugh quietly and sat back up, leaning comfortably against him. She was wearing his hoodie, unzipped with the sleeves rolled up, and looked so tiny that Juice again felt himself swell with protectiveness over his new bride.

"It wasn't lonely," Denise shrugged. "It was nice... for a teenage girl who didn't have many friends and didn't really _belong_ anywhere. Because you sit up here and you just see all this - all this space with nobody in it. You realize that the world is this _huge_ place. So huge that you realize that somewhere, there's gotta be a place for you in it."

"What about us? Where's ours?" Juice asked abruptly, prompting her to turn her head to look back at him. She paused, looking slightly downwards, and Juice braced himself for an answer that would knock down the sense of contentment he'd slowly been breeding in the past few hours. What if there _was_ no right place for them? It wasn't Charming. It wasn't Stockton. What if it was nowhere?

Instead, however, she gave a small sigh and a serene smile settled onto her lips as she nestled into him even closer. Resting her head back against his shoulder, they both relaxed as the first glimmers of pink and violet bled into the horizon. "Anywhere you are. Anywhere I am," she said peacefully, drawing her knees up to her chest. "We'll land somewhere, but for now - it's okay with me if my place is wherever you are."

Juice paused, holding Denise more tightly to him. "I can dig it," he said with a throaty laugh, earning a playful jab of her elbow in his stomach. He hoped she was right. He hoped that maybe having a place didn't have to be a city or a house. It didn't mean turf and territory.

It just meant _belonging_.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And finally, we get a chapter that's properly just Juice/Denise. Things are going to get a lot messier soon - in some parts, a lot bloodier and heavier. So, they definitely needed the calm before the storm. The next chapter is going to have little to no Juice/Denise fluff and is instead going to contain more club business, with some guest appearances and a long-awaited moment of truth. I'm in for another long weekend of getting settled in the new place, so I don't estimate the next update coming up until Monday or Tuesday, but we'll see which way the wind blows. I have quite a bit already written, so my posting speed is mostly dependent on how much time I have to sit down and edit._

_And if you're reading, a personal thank you to **Love Ink** for sharing my joy at the Giants' World Series win! Even year magic, baby! And of course, to the ever loyal **wabi-sabi1090 **and **stordec23** - you guys and your reviews always brighten up my day!_

_So anyway, for now until the next update, I hope to hear from all of you out there reading! From here on out, the real fun begins! Cheers!  
><em>


	26. Chapter 26

Under other circumstances, a cabin in the middle of nowhere would have been worse than a death sentence for Juice - he would have lost his mind if all he could hear was the sound of his own voice and crickets chirping. This was different, though. Here and now, all of the little things about Denise infiltrated every part of his day. In the three days he had been up here in the cabin with her, he had never felt alone, not even once. He was happy, even when the sound of her quiet snoring and sleep-mumbling filled those moments when he couldn't sleep at night. He didn't wallow in his own thoughts here because he wasn't alone - and Juice felt reasonably hopeful for the first time in possibly his whole life that he _never_ would be.

It didn't bother him that they had to pump water and carry it in with buckets to take a bath, or that they could only drink bottled water. It didn't bother him that the lights were always dim because of slightly dated solar panels on the ceilings - Denise had explained how it was her grandfather's dream to one day leave business completely and live off the grid, which was why this cabin had popped up so far from their home in the Bay Area. It didn't bother him that she was a little better than he was at chopping firewood, because he was better than she was at starting fires. It didn't bother him that she woke up before the sun, because there were times he could hardly sleep anyway - not because he was in any kind of ill mood, but because he tended to sometimes stay up just _thinking_. In so many odd ways, it seemed as though they granted one another a sense of balance, even if only in these little things.

All of these little things whittled away at the sense of wariness that he thought would consume the remainder of his life.

Back in Charming, however, Jax Teller and the boys of SAMCRO had finally caught a break - upon vaguely informing Alvarez that they had something very valuable that once belonged to the Triads and that Henry Lin now in fact had very little to offer in comparison, he finally agreed that the Mayans would provide the setup for Lin's capture.

"How do we know we can trust Alvarez on this one?"

"We don't," Jax said darkly as they sat in wait in the abandoned warehouse, just shy of ten miles from the Stockton ports. Tig gave a throaty laugh at the answer to his question, pulling his pistol from its holster and holding it up, curling his hand around it.

"So you have a contingency plan? Presidente?"

"The plan is that no matter what happens, you leave Lin to me. Nobody gets to _kill_ him but me," he said, craning his head and squinting slightly out the window. Spotting something he seemed to be looking for, he gestured for whoever was outside to come closer, and momentarily, Happy appeared just moments ahead of the others. He placed a body down in front of Jax and gestured to it, as though presenting a gift for his approval.

The dead girl in front of him was petite - Asian with long dark hair and pale skin like Denise's. "Still pretty fresh. I promised I'd get her back quick, but I have a feeling that promise isn't gonna hold."

"We'll try to keep it one piece, alright?" Jax said with a smirk. He pulled a burner from his pocket and took a photo - a grainy, low-quality photograph, as to be expected from a phone of that age, but even that would work to his favor. He typed in the phone number Alvarez had provided for Henry Lin and a brief message.

_You're too late. -Juice_

"What are you pinning this on the boy for?" Chibs asked, his voice a forced cool tone. "You want Lin to think that Juicy killed her?"

"It gets the point across - Lin knows that it's _him_ she's been with. It's bait. The money's no good to anyone if she's dead before twenty-five," Jax interrupted, holding up a finger to silence the others. "They're already on their way here because Alvarez set up a deal with him. They'll be together when the message comes in. Lin is going to try and track us - he'll know the place on sight from the picture. He'll haul ass here to make us pay for wasting his years of effort at keeping _Meimei_ out of harm's way, and if he has back-up... that's why _you're_ here."

The others stared at one another warily - Jax's plans were becoming more and more piecemeal, more haphazard, but none of them was yet prepared to go against him. He'd lost enough family, and there wasn't anything he could do that couldn't somehow be cleaned up when the dust settled. However, as the next hour passed, the doubt settled in like a fog. A few glances between men seemed to share the unspoken message like a game of telephone. What if Jax was wrong? What if Alvarez didn't show? What if he _did_ show, for all of the wrong reasons?

The time for these speculations ran out quickly, however, as the roar of engines grew louder from the distance - a mixture are bikes and cages, the latter obviously belonging to Henry Lin.

"I thought we had a deal, _ese_," Alvarez's voice boomed as the door to the warehouse opened. Henry Lin could be heard spitting vehement curses. "You said we were going to talk details about the transaction - we were gonna square away the money, and now you're telling me there _is_ no money because you got a little _picture_ message, Chinaman?"

Peering out from behind a maze of crates, Jax saw that the outside of the warehouse was crawling with Mayans - Alvarez, who was now walking Lin deeper and deeper into the warehouse, farther and farther from the exit and his only escape, had been good to his word.

"It was those SAMCRO Neanderthals," Henry spat angrily - there was a cracking sound, and as a piece of plastic skidded across the floor closer to Jax, he realized that Henry had hurled his cellphone in anger. "They ruined _everything_ - they took _everything_ - thrown away like the _fucking_ scrap metal they ride around on -"

But before he could continue in his curses of SAMCRO, shots were being fired - from the Mayans, then from Lin's men, then finally, Jax gestured for their hidden contingent to come out of hiding, opening fire on the Chinese as well but making sure to avoid any fatal shots to Henry Lin. In the crossfire, Alvarez was able to approach the older Chinese man from behind and, with a single swing of a two-by-four, knock him unconscious to the ground.

* * *

><p>Gemma felt a sickening sense of panic as she drove up to Stockton - she had received an ominous call from Jax, declaring a time at which she should meet him at a particular address. <em>Come alone<em>, he had said. _The only person who deserves to get revenge on the person who killed Tara as much as me and the boys do is you_.

That meant that Henry Lin would be there. It meant that Jax would want her to help kill him - she didn't doubt that she could look the man in the eye and shoot him if it was needed, but the idea of actually seeing her lie through to the end seemed too good to be true. She wanted very much to believe that this was truly the end, but she couldn't. Having hope killed you. Having fear saved you.

She made her way to the location Jax had given her and found herself walking into an old warehouse, past a floor littered with dead Chinese men. There was a long on the ground where it looked like someone had been dragged, disrupting a thick layer of dust, so Gemma followed it and pushed open a door to reveal Jax delivering a fierce blow to the stomach of an already bloodied Henry Lin, who was tied in a standing position to a support pillar in the middle of the room. Alvarez and a couple of his men, as well as the rest of the Sons, stood around, unwilling to interrupt Jax in his long sought-after revenge.

"_Say you did it_," Jax snarled through gritted teeth, delivering another punch. "Say you killed my wife and maybe this'll be quick."

"I did _nothing_ -"

Lin gave a howl of pain as Jax's fist met his stomach again; the Chinese man coughed, and a small spattering of blood left his mouth, spattering over the front of his shirt.

"_Say it_," Jax roared, slapping his palm flat onto the pillar, just above Lin's head. "Say you killed Tara and then I'll end it. I'll end you just the way you ended her -"

"_That's_ what this is about, _mano_?" Alvarez interrupted, stepping in front of Jax with his expression incredulous - Jax, on the other hand, only looked infuriated that someone was getting in his way. "Lin didn't kill your wife, _gringo_. I know he didn't..."

Gemma felt her heart sink, and she was tempted to run - but she couldn't. It would be too incriminating. If she could just reach her purse without anyone seeing, she could shoot Alvarez - plant one right into his forehead before he could say anything. But something in her mind seemed to chant to her - it's too late. _It's too late_.

Alvarez, on the other hand, began pacing circles around Jax, whose eyes suddenly took on a bulging quality, his hands shaking at his sides. He wanted to think Alvarez was lying, but Marcus Alvarez had _always_ had a sense of strange, twisted honor. He wouldn't _stop_ a murder without reason.

"Lin and I had a deal that if he ever took down SAMCRO... _I _would get your family," Alvarez said, stepping back and shrugging as though he'd just informed Jax that the weather looked like rain. "And I would get the one-up on you. I'd get all your deals, all your trades - _everything_. But Lin never delivered. He wouldn't kill your wife because we had other plans for her. Smart woman like that... just needed to be probably trained. _Entiendeme?_"

At any other time, Jax would have leapt immediately to Tara's defense - that was a threat. That was a threat to her honor and her safety, and he never would have stood for it when she was alive. But now that she was somewhere that she no longer needed to be _defended_ against petty words and empty threats, it was simply a puzzle piece that had been missing. His eyes narrowed darkly. "If Lin didn't -"

"Isn't it _true_," Alvarez interrupted with a cruel smile, circling Jax like a vulture, but letting his gaze drift towards one other person in the room, "that there was only one person who says that they saw who killed your wife? Maybe you should ask them a few more questions."

Jax didn't know what Alvarez knew, or where he knew it _from, _but he followed Alvarez's gaze across the room - his jaw tightened painfully when he realized where it had landed. Gemma, who had been maneuvering and had nearly been able to get her hand all the way into her purse, froze when she realized that _every_ gaze had suddenly fallen upon her.

"I..." Gemma stammered, dropping her bag to the ground and swearing that she felt her heart _stop_ in that moment. She had come too far, done too _much_ for this to be the end. "Jax, I don't know what he's talking about. I saw -"

Lin let out a pained groan, struggling against his bonds but too disoriented to speak - Jax tore his gaze from his mother and strode over to him, grabbing a fistful of the man's hair and yanking his head back so they could look one another in the eye and he could get a proper answer.

"Is it true, you fuckin' yellow bastard? Did you have other plans for my wife?"

"_Y-yes_..." Lin stammered, his face hard with whatever ferocity he could muster, whatever hatred his body could manage. "But someone else got her _first._"

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_ Hopefully, another update is coming within the next 48 hours if I can get some edits done, but no promises quite yet. The next chapter will shift focus back to Juice and Denise, but also be the beginning of some big changes for everyone, especially in Jax's gameplan._

_Also, I received a PM that I will keep anonymous by a reader who was really angry that I was completely bypassing Kurt Sutter's season 7 storyline and going off on my own, and I completely understand if that's not everyone's cup of tea. I am in no way trying to undermine the original work or say that there is anything wrong with it. Just thought I would throw that out there in case other readers felt the same way. And for those of you who have given me such amazing support and feedback, followed, and favorited this story so far, you guys brighten my day, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart!_

_Anyway, enough sappiness! Back to work editing the next chapter for you! Cheers!_


	27. Chapter 27

"And that, baby, was the Juice Ortiz, VIP treatment."

Denise looked a little queasy as she got off of the back of the bike, pulling the helmet off of her head and looking considerably more pale than usual. She took a few heavy, gulping breaths before shaking her head.

"Well, baby, thanks to your VIP treatment, my ass hurts," she laughed, irking an eyebrow. However, when she shifted slightly, she gave a small grimace, and Juice realized that perhaps she wasn't entirely kidding. "And I'm about to hurl. How the hell do you guys get on those things _all_ the damn time?" Denise asked, her face looking comically outraged. She wasn't angry at all, of course, but the act of trying not to vomit lent to her face a severity that was perhaps more than necessary. Juice laughed, reaching out and rubbing a hand on her back.

"Well, baby," he said with an innocent shrug. "Now you know how I feel when _you_ drive."

Juice and Denise had been making the most of the time they had spent on their honeymoon, despite the fact that the honeymoon had in fact been _mandated_ by Jax to get them out of the way while he handled business. In the six days since they got married and hightailed it out of Charming, they'd spent a surprising amount of time doing things _other_ than consummating their marriage - though to be fair, over the past week, it had still been consummated plenty.

They had gone hiking. Juice had attempted to teach Denise the basics of riding, but she quickly gave up despite the fact that her balance was excellent for a beginner - she wrote it off the fact that going fast in something other than a car simply made her feel sick, and if she threw up inside of a helmet, she'd drown.

"Maybe I should just get a Vespa," Denise had suggested jokingly, holding her hands in front of her and making an exaggerated revving motion. "Just roll on down the streets of Charming on a little moped."

"No way, baby -"

"Candy apple green."

"Babe."

"With _pompoms_."

"Baby, I swear –"

"And a little horn! _Honk honk_!"

Laughing, Juice leaned forward and kissed her just to shut her up - and needless to say, things progressed from there in a very different direction.

One morning in particular, Denise had grown attached to a rabbit that had made an on-and-off home of their back porch. She groused when one morning, she woke up to find that Juice had taken the liberty of naming the rabbit himself.

"_Fifi_?" Denise asked, her face contorted in still-sleepy annoyance. "You're gonna name my rabbit _Fifi_?"

"It's short for Sofia, and she's _our_ rabbit," he corrected, picking the animal up and holding her out towards Denise while tilting her slowly back and forth as though she was dancing. "Come on. It's - I really like the name. Cut me some slack."

"_No_!"

"Please," Juice said, raising his eyebrows. "You can name our kids. You can name _all_ our kids, even if you wanna name them Mushu and Chun Li -"

"I do _not_ want to name our kids Mushu and Chun Li!" Denise said, throwing her arms out widely. "Why would you even think that I would _call_ our kids-"

But she froze, blinking wordlessly as she realized that they had both inadvertently made a drastic revelation, solely from the fact that Juice had made a reference to their kids, and Denise hadn't immediately written it off as _never happening_. Her face reddened as she held back a smile, and Juice put Fifi down. The small ball of fluff took to hopping awkwardly to the other side of the patio, and Denise finally let out a choked laugh.

"So," she said, shuffling her feet, then shifting to tap the toe of one foot gently onto the wooden planks of the porch. "Did you mean it?"

"That... that I want kids one day?" Juice asked, stammering and scratching the back of his neck, partly mortified and partly relieved that at least this was all coming out now, sooner rather than later. "Sure. Of course I do - I mean, not now of course. But if it happened now, I wouldn't be mad or anything -"

"I mean, the part that I get to name them?" Denise asked with a winning grin. Juice's eyebrows leapt, and Denise let out a high-pitched laugh at his expression, guffawing so thoroughly that her eyes shut, giving Juice an opening to close the space between them, lifting her up into a fireman carry on his shoulder and bringing her inside.

"We'll be back, Fifi! Mommy and Daddy need to get to work making you some human brothers and sisters!"

Juice was fairly sure that if he wasn't already, the past week made him qualified to call himself an expert on every inch of Denise Kwan - _Denise Ortiz_. He'd never really considered the idea of giving a girl his last name, mostly because he'd never been in a position in which that was a possibility. Sure, there were girls. There were _plenty_ of girls, many of whom he couldn't honestly name. But the possibility of a _Mrs. Ortiz_ ever existing had just always seemed so remote, and yet now, here she was.

He'd always known she was _hot_. He'd known that from the beginning obviously. But now he knew that she had a blotchy, Rorschach-like birthmark where a tramp-stamp would've gone, and to him, it looked like a campfire. She would lay on her stomach reading a newspaper she'd picked up on one of their brief runs into town, and Juice would trace his finger over it - and she would immediately roll over and swat his hand away, because she happened to be ticklish too. She had scars without interesting stories behind them. She had scars _with_ interesting stories behind them.

Lying intertwined with her on the couch with a sheet pulled up over their heads like a tent, Juice gave a lopsided grin that she wouldn't see, because she was fast asleep. He mentally note that maybe next time, he shouldn't tire her out so bad. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead - even in her sleep, she smiled.

That was it, Juice realized. That's why she had come to matter so much to him in the first place. He had grown so used to fucking up and having to make up for it, to disappointing someone or other, to accidentally doing wrong by someone or other. With Denise, he didn't feel that same swelling of guilt and inadequacy. For her, everything he did seemed to be good enough. Anywhere he fell short, she picked up the slack without complaint. Maybe at first, it hadn't really been love. Maybe it first, it had been infatuation - codependence, even. But now, all he knew was that even if the circumstances under which she had become _Mrs. Ortiz_ were less than ideal, he would go to hell and back to make sure she _stayed_ Mrs. Ortiz.

There was a sound that became just barely audible outside, and Juice flinched unexpectedly, causing her to stir slightly. His arms wrapped around her more tightly, pushing her down onto the couch while he sat up.

"What's wrong?" she asked groggily. Juice was suddenly like a bloodhound, alert with his eyes focused outside the window.

"There's someone on the road outside," he said hesitantly. Denise writhed in his arms, just barely able to squirm into an angle where she could see over the back of the old sofa, and she squinted against the glare from the rising sun to confirm that there was indeed a vehicle coming up close to the cabin.

"Juice - baby," she said, placing a hand on his arm and giving it a small squeeze. "I think it's Gemma."

Denise scrambled to pick her clothes up off of the floor but found most of it had ended up shuffled under the couch in the shuffle, so instead, she plucked Juice's shirt up off of the ground, pulling it over herself. They'd just gotten married a week ago, and Gemma Teller-Morrow had been married twice - if Denise came to the door in a t-shirt and panties, it was highly unlikely to be a surprise.

"Babe, don't get the door -"

"Right, because I can just call the cops and they'll beat her here?" Denise asked sarcastically. "She knows we can see her coming up and she's not speeding up or turning around - I don't think she means trouble."

But Juice was still wary as Denise hurried over to the door - he followed a few steps behind her, and grimaced as she took off barefoot down the front steps and met the SUV coming up the dirt driveway. The car stopped, ceasing the cloud of dust it kicked up in its wake, and the driver's side door opened. Gemma stepped out, her face red and her lip swollen.

"Jax knows..." she said weakly. Denise's jaw dropped, and Juice nearly thought his knees would cave beneath him as he caught up to Denise, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He knows everything -"

"_What? _Get inside, c'mon," Denise interrupted, holding up her hand and waving towards the front door. "We can talk in there."

Gemma fell silent for a moment, her face blank as she trudged up the steps behind the newlyweds. She allowed Denise to take her by the forearm and guide her to the couch - Gemma took a seat and felt her shoulders slump as she buried her head in her hands, allowing fierce sobs to overtake her for the first time.

"They had Lin set up - Alvarez was supposed to be helping but - everything came out," Gemma said, shaking her head miserably. "I can't even go home again - I can never see them again -"

"Jax - he did _that_?" Denise asked, her face scrunched in concern as she noted Gemma's busted lip - it was swollen, and a small amount of dried blood was still there. Gemma gave a sad, humorless laugh.

"I killed his wife, I think he deserved one good hit," she said tearfully. "I tried - I tried to make him understand - but he knows. He knows _everything._"

Everything. Juice and Denise shared a glance as they quickly realized that this meant Jax knew about Juice's involvement as well. Juice let out a groan and ran his hands over his scalp, looking upwards at the ceiling. It had been too good to be true. It had _all_ been too good to be true.

"The cops," he said, shaking his head fervently. "Do they -"

"No - no cops," Gemma said, shaking her head. "Jax is still going through with everything against Lin - still taking down the Triads. Said that just because Lin is innocent of one crime doesn't erase the fact that he tried to kill the boys."

"Uncle Henry is dead?" Denise asked. Gemma shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't know what happened - but Jax was definitely close to it. Killing the guy," Gemma said miserably. "I didn't see it, but I don't know if he coulda stopped himself anymore." Denise let out a breath, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Does he know you're here?" Denise asked. Gemma again shook her head, no - she was the only one who knew where the cabin was, apart from Juice and Denise. Denise nodded, as though this answered anything - and the fact that she was coming up with a plan in her head on her own unsettled Juice even further because the last time this happened was the reason they ended up back in Charming in the first place. "We'll let the dust settle - let them get their wits about them," she began carefully. "And then I'll go back. Alone."

"_Babe_ -"

"Juice, no. You don't know what this means for you if you go back there - I dragged you back once when you didn't want to go, and I'm not going to do it again," she said resolutely. "But I need to know for sure this time - see if this means we can get away from this once and for all. You too, Gemma," Denise said. Juice felt his spirits drop slightly at the fact that Denise was actually considering bringing Gemma with them if they made a getaway- sure, the woman was important to him. He'd protected her, after all. But if he was going to make a break, he wanted it to be a clean one, and with Gemma Teller-Morrow, there was no such thing as a clean break. "We don't need to tiptoe around this anymore, baby, we can finally get this mess cleaned up for good," Denise said, shaking her head. "Maybe it's time now."

Gemma soon retreated to another room in the large cabin, locking herself inside. Juice and Denise thought perhaps she was just sleeping until, hours later, they realized that they could hear her _talking._

"Are you happy now, Tara?" she said aloud, her voice audibly wavering with sobs. Juice glanced at his wife with a shocked expression, but Denise raised a finger to her lips and hushed him, her brow furrowed as she held her breath and strained to listen. "I was _good_ to those boys! I did everything for them, and now my son hates me - I'll never see the boys _again_. Are you happy? Jax is all they have now, Tara. He's all they have and he's out of his goddamn _mind_... you've seen him. You can see us from up there, can't you? _Can't you_?"

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Just wanted to say, thank you to everyone for the pep talks! I had a brief moment of self-doubt as far as my storyline when I received that PM, and I really do hope you guys enjoy the ride. You're all the absolute best – even those with constructive criticisms, because the story truly still is a work in progress._

_Also, just wanted to point out that **Love Ink** called a small plot point that's yet to come, as far as the text message Jax signed with Juice's name. It's not for a few chapters still, though, so keep an eye out for it, or you just might miss how significant it is!_

_Anyway - not a long chapter, but there is much more action to come! In the next chapter, we get to see a little bit more of how things change now that Gemma's secret is out, and we get to see Jax drag everyone into some really sketchy stuff - which probably does not come as a surprise. I'm going to need to DVR tonight's episode because I have a work thing to attend tonight, but I hope you all enjoy! Happy reading, happy watching, and cheers!_


	28. Chapter 28

"Daddy?" Abel asked, his forehead wrinkling with concern as Jax pulled his older son into his lap, trying to conceal the fact that his face was wet with tears. "Why are you crying?"

"I just miss your mom, buddy," he said hoarsely, planting a kiss on the side of his son's head. This was, admittedly, the first time perhaps since the truth came out that he'd been sober enough to even _look_ at his sons, who had been going from house to house for the past few days while he processed things. Admittedly, _processing_ meant that he had been high and drunk off his ass most of the time, and in a state that he wouldn't have wanted his boys to see him in anyhow.

A part of Jax had almost wished that Gemma just kept on lying - she was good at that. If he was going to have to kill Lin anyhow, he would have wanted to at least get some satisfaction from it, knowing he had avenged Tara's death. He'd gotten in a good backhand across Gemma's face before it truly set in that this was his mother. This was the person he had trusted above all others, placed above all others, despite her many sins - and because of her, everything had now gone to shit. But she was blood. Abel and Thomas _loved_ her, just the way they had loved their mom - and even as his blood boiled and his entire body shook with rage, he knew that he, unlike his mother, couldn't kill someone they loved and would miss and still be able to look them in the eye afterwards.

He'd sent Gemma away - he didn't give a fuck what she did now. He meant what he said when he'd told her this wouldn't go through the cops, and he wasn't going to turn her in because he still _wanted_ revenge against Lin. His blood still boiled with anger for the man, misplaced or not, because Henry Lin had still been the one to take it too far. In Jax's mind, Henry Lin had crossed the line first. He'd set his home on fire, come dangerously close to killing his boys. One of Lin's men had put a _gun_ to Abel's head - if Denise hadn't been where she was, when she was, and if she hadn't been packing the piece he'd given her as a wedding presence, the evening would have gone done very differently.

And Juice _knew_. He'd covered up for Gemma - Jax's initial desire had been to find him and wring his neck too, until he realized that he'd sold his claim on the man's life, rat or not, to the woman who now bore both Juice's last name and SAMCRO's only chance of a decisive victory against the Triads. That, and he was living temporarily in the man's house. The town of Charming was coming together to help rebuild after the fire at the Teller residence, but in the meantime, the empty Ortiz residence was as good a temporary home as any.

"I miss your mom…. _so much_," Jax repeated in a defeated voice, squeezing his son tightly.

"I miss mommy too," Abel said, but his voice was even and blank. "But I don't like to miss her all the time. It makes my heart hurt..."

Jax's sadness immediately turned to worry, concern about whether the pain Abel was talking about was a sign that he wasn't doing well. Despite the fact that he wasn't a religious man, he found himself silent imploring anyone who was listening that Tara wasn't about to take Abel with her to wherever she was nowadays. He squeezed his son a little tighter, staying there with him as he watched television until there was the sound of a knock on the door before the sound of a key clicking reached Jax's ears. The door opened slowly, and Abel was the first to turn his tiny head.

"_Aunt Deedee's back_!"

Jax immediately got to his feet, and Denise drove in the doorway - a glance through the doorway behind her revealed the fact that she had come alone. Figures, he said with a sneering smirk. Juice would never be man enough to come along if Gemma had called them and told them the cat was out of the bag.

"Buddy, you watch Tommy for me a little while, alright?" Jax said, his eyes still trained on the smaller woman in the doorway who made a very conscious effort not to shrink under his discerning stare. "I'm gonna talk to your Aunt Deedee outside."

"You _always_ gotta talk to her outside. You always say that - I gotta talk to Aunt Deedee outside. I gotta talk to Aunt Deedee in the other room," Abel pointed out, rolling his eyes. Jax chuckled grudgingly, ruffling the boy's hair before nodding for Deedee to go back outside. He followed her out, shutting the door behind him.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, crossing his arms as Denise finally took an intimidated step backwards.

"I know that you _know_," she said, her gaze directed downward until she took in a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Jax's gaze. "And I came to make sure we still have a deal."

"What deal are you talking about?"

"Are you still interested in taking down the Triads?"

Jax's faced shifted into a frown at the question - not because he was going to answer in the negative, but because he hadn't expected continued cooperation from Denise now that the cat was out of the bag. He hesitated before nodding shortly. "You bet your ass I am. Your uncle tried to kill my boys," he repeated for what felt like the millionth time, though it was the first time he was saying it to _her_. "And I don't care what his motivations were. I don't care if I drew first blood against him -"

"I turned on him before I ever set foot in Charming and made a deal with you," Denise interrupted, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I didn't _meet_ Juice by accident. They sent me after him to do recon on SAMCRO because they didn't know he was on the outs. I had a job to do and I backed out. I'm not just _hiding_, Jax. I'm in business with you and with SAMCRO because I know the Triads need to go down… for my sake just as much as yours."

Jax paused, inhaling sharply through his nose - he'd gotten some details from Gemma the day Denise had arrived, but never as much as he'd wanted. He'd thought that Denise had just been a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time, that she'd just _fallen_ for Juice Ortiz like an idiot and made every decision she did, blindly, for love - but she wasn't _just_ a girl. Jax then realized just how shrewd the young woman was, and admittedly, how risky it was to cast your lot with someone that shrewd. She was playing with cards up her sleeve, just like he was - just like Gemma always had.

"We ended up in Charming because Juice let it spill what he and Gemma had done - the other shit the club's done - and I couldn't give the information up anymore. My brother panicked, we ran," Denise said, looking down at her feet. "I need this just as bad as you do. I'm not just doing this for Juice," she admitted, shaking her head. "I'm not some kind of... _saint. _I need to know if you and me still have a deal because I want to end this. I want peace too."

Jax took a few steps, almost beginning to circle the woman in front of him. Henry Lin _did_ have it in for him and his boys. A part of him thought that there was no reason to trust Denise - but another part of felt that the information coming from her was the only information he _could_ trust. He took everything Alvarez said about Lin with a grain of salt, and Jax wouldn't trust any of them as far as he could throw them. If Denise had been lying, had been manipulating him, she would have been more persistent - would have made more demands than to simply leave Juice alone.

"Did you kill my Uncle?" Denise asked, interrupting Jax's thoughts momentarily. He inhaled through his nostrils and uncrossed his arms, shoving them into his pockets when he realized that the question was filled with something he didn't expect - _hope_. Denise _wanted_ Henry Lin dead, and that in and of itself set the wheels tuning in Jax's head.

"You'll get your answers eventually," he said with a calm nod. Denise grimaced, but nodded in resignation. "Tell your husband it's safe to come back to Charming - we have work to do and I could use his expertise."

Denise paused, sizing Jax up and seeing if this was a promise or a trap - but regardless, she had dug this grave and was going to need to lay in it.

"_Daddy_!" Abel's voice piped up suddenly, followed by the sound of him palm slapping on the door from inside. "Tommy's cranky, he won't shush and I'm trying to get him a bottle but I can't reach! They're too high up on the counter, Daddy -"

"Alright, buddy, I'll be right -"

"I think he wants Aunt Deedee! He saw her come in," Abel said - and his voice, too, was filled with an unexpected level of hope and anticipation. Jax knew, of course, that this was just Abel's way of saying that he wanted Denise to come inside, because Thomas had been fast asleep when Denise had come through the door. Jax wouldn't have put it past his son if he'd woken Thomas up on purpose, just for an excuse. It was what brothers did, after all. Abel loved his brother, protected him, cared for him - but he wasn't above pestering him on occasion. "Can she come inside now or are you still talking to her?"

Jax paused and glanced over at Denise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. She nodded, putting on a smile and placing her hand on the doorknob. "I'll be right in, okay, buddy?" she asked before slowly pushing open the door and stepping inside. There was no way out this time, she realized. This was it. She was _in_ this.

* * *

><p>"Jax isn't going to kill you."<p>

Juice looked up from his seat on the couch, where he had his head folded in his hands - being alone, cooped up with Gemma in this cabin without Denise, was a far cry from the peaceful solitude he'd enjoyed with his new wife. This felt dangerously similar to life before he'd met her, this feeling of being constantly afraid. Gemma looked across the coffee table at him, standing in front of the window.

"He won't kill you, because of her. Because of Denise. He won't even take it to the table," Gemma said. "He won't risk hurting her, but hell if he's not gonna find a way to use her fo all she's worth. Because she's a good tool. She's useful to him, and if he breaks his word and takes you out, he loses his hold over her. You don't wanna combine money like hers with anger and turn her loose," Gemma pointed out. "You don't wanna turn someone with connections like that into another Jax."

"Or another you," Juice spoke up before he could help himself. Gemma inhaled sharply, but gave a grudging, humorless laugh.

"Yeah. Another me."

Juice shuddered at the idea of Denise turning into another Jax, or another Gemma. Surely, he attempted to assure himself, Charming couldn't grab a hold of her the way it did to other people. She was different. She wasn't like them - she was better than them because, Juice truly believed, she couldn't have saved him if she wasn't. She could come into a place like Charming without getting sucked in.

"Charming isn't a place you just get in and out of once your business is done, no matter how strong you are. It's got a way of keepin' you, baby," Gemma said, as though she'd read Juice's mind. "The more she cooperates, the bigger Jax's plans are gonna get. You're not gonna get your happily ever after with her, honey. You don't get to just pick somewhere new to belong."

"I don't belong anyplace," Juice said, his expression miserable. "But I belong with a person. With her."

Gemma laughed sadly, shaking her head at how naive he sounded - but before she could point it out to him, the burner on the table gave a ring, and he scrambled for it, picking it up and heading outside.

Truth be told, Gemma was counting on Denise as much as Juice was - counting on her to bring the vendetta against Lin to an end. If she could do that, Gemma could start working her way back in. She always found her way back in. She had been running out of avenues to take, but Denise was new. She was different, and she was beginning to gain Jax's trust. There was a reason she'd come to hide with the Ortiz newlyweds, after all.

Juice walked back in after a few minutes, tucking the burner back into his pocket and staring back at Gemma. "I'm going back to Charming," he said, his voice tight and audibly shaking. "You're staying here, where Jax can't find you. Don't contact anyone, don't show your face to anyone. Got it?"

Gemma's expression went blank as it dawned on her that she had truly _lost_ everything this time. In other circumstances, she would have forced her way back, but this time, she had no one to force her way back to. She nodded in resignation. "Yeah, kid. I got it."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_I bet that was easier than most of you expected, wasn't it? I think a lot of you guys, based on your reviews, were expecting Jax to fly off the handle. But – fear not, he gets a jab in and makes life hard for Juice and Denise very soon. He's already got some tricks up his sleeve, and in true Sons of Anarchy fashion, his tricks are going to have some unforeseen consequences._

_But – how about this week's episode? I'll avoid spoilers, but heck if that wasn't some of the most emotionally intense television I've put myself through, and it's only going to get worse. Depending on how long it takes me to write chapters, since I do indeed still have a lot of story to tell, this story/series may extend past the series finale, so I hope I keep you guys hanging on here after the show is over, because I am foreseeing some serious denial and withdrawals._

_Anyway, next chapter, we're going to see an uncharacteristically calm Jax (which never means that good things are on the horizon) and we're going to introduce Denise to someone who is going to play an important part in driving the story quite a bit later. So, stay tuned for the next update! Cheers!_


	29. Chapter 29

"Abel - buddy, you gotta get those shoes on -"

"It's stuck! How come they're not working?"

Denise turned from putting her own shoes on and buttoning her own shirt to see that Abel had slipped his shoes onto the wrong feet. She knew that he knew which feet his shoes went on, of course, but as of late, he'd been doing more and more things simply for the sake of attention. Still, she scampered over and swapped his shoes onto the correct feet, tying them and handing him his backpack.

"I feel like Jax is getting the better end of this bargain," Juice said stiffly, walking back into the room with Thomas after having changed his diaper. Jax had already left for the morning back to TM and left the his boys to Juice and Denise. Without Gemma around, Jax was the first to admit he wasn't the best with figuring out what to do with the boys. He'd always had Tara, and then he'd always had Gemma. Now, all he had was the club, and at present, he wanted all hands on deck at TM as much as possible in case things popped off without warning. That left very few options as far as watching the boys - Jax was growing wary of asking so much of Lyla, and he kept Wendy at a distance as much as he could.

"He probably is," Denise said, finally getting back to buttoning her shirt. "But there are worse situations we could be in."

It worked out in everyone's favor that Jax needed someone to care for his boys, and Juice and Denise were at a loss for better things to do or places to be - in the days since Juice had returned to Charming and left Gemma in Lovelock, Jax had spoken to him only minimally, which was fine by Juice, who had no desire to hear the choice things he knew Jax had to say to him. Instead, Juice was appreciative of the fact that communications with the SAMCRO president went through his wife first - because she, unlike most people, could be sure that she had nothing to fear at the hands of Jax Teller.

Denise was, again, his human shield against Jax's wrath - and Juice felt a pang of guilt at the fact that he didn't exactly object to that happening.

Juice didn't mind watching Thomas during the mornings while Denise drove Abel to school - he'd made the mistake of asking Jax where Wendy was and why she wasn't doing any of this instead, and Jax had answered brusquely that Tara had been the one who thought that giving Wendy responsibility over the kids was a good idea, and _Tara_ wasn't here anymore, as if Juice didn't know that. In any case, Juice secretly liked watching Denise with the boys, because he was able to sneak in the occasional musing about what she would be like when they had kids of their own - kids they'd raise outside of Charming, away from all of this. Months ago, Juice would have never even wanted to consider a life outside of Charming, but now, it was his endgame. It was what _needed_ to happen - and with a strong pang of guilt at the fact that he was starting to think like Tara.

He silently now wished that he'd helped _her_ instead. He hoped maybe the universe would cut him a little slack on account of the fact that he at least understood now.

That evening, while the boys were situated in front of the couch, mesmerized by cartoons, Jax made his way back into the house looking tired, but immediately nodding for Denise to come over to the kitchen - out of reflex, Juice followed. His expression, however, wasn't the same one of anger, of determination, of needing to get business done. It was something different - almost as though he was defeated. Embarrassed. Denise gently arched an eyebrow.

"What's going on?"

"I don't have this parenting shit down," he said with a shake of his head, glancing over towards the sofas to make sure that his sons were duly distracted. "I completely _fuckin'_ forgot. I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"Abel's birthday," he said through gritted teeth. "I've just - I've got bigger fish to fry and I can't pull anything off. But the kid -"

"Say no more," Denise said quietly, holding up her index finger. "Juice and I -"

"No. No, it's not your job. It's _mine."_

"So you're gonna find a way to pull it off then?" Juice managed to ask, one of the first time was actually able to _address_ Jax without feeling like he should have been cowering in a corner instead. Jax eyed him momentarily and shook his head, his shoulders drooping in resignation.

"C'mon, babe," Denise said, nodding towards the door. "We can get started finding some stuff. Give Jax a little alone time with the boys."

_...because he needs it. _That was the unspoken afterword to the statement, and Juice understood it well enough, following his wife out the door.

"You don't think this is weird?" Juice asked, his brow wrinkled in concern as they made their way outside. Heglanced over his shoulder to make sure that Jax wasn't watching or following.. He reached over and took the keys from Denise's hands before she could get to the car - there was no way he was going to let her drive if he didn't have to. "Jax finds out what he does about what we did, and instead of getting right with it, he's getting us to plan him a _birthday party_? You don't think this is too fuckin' easy? It's not like him -"

"Does it - does it always have to be about getting right with things? He dropped the ball and doesn't want his kid to hate him," Denise shrugged. Juice could tell that she genuinely believed something with Jax Teller could possibly be that simple. "It doesn't hurt, right? It's a party - it's balloons and a cake and... and bunch of hyper elementary school kids _eating_ that cake. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, now that you put it that way," Juice said with a smirk as he crossed over to the driver's side, while Denise stood on the passenger side, opening the door. She jokingly shot him a roll of her eyes before hopping into the car.

Denise, as it turned out, made up for her lack of love for shopping in one fell swoop - they had managed to fill an entire cart at the store full of things to use for a children's party. Juice had laughingly agreed to pull the car up to the back entrance to the store where Denise wouldn't need to lug everything out, but as he stopped there, he realized that he wasn't alone in the back parking lot - there were two figures tucked into the shadows against the brick wall of the building, and they looked incredibly cozy at that.

It took a moment for Juice to realize that the guy who had a woman pinned up against the wall was _Chibs_. He gave a lopsided grin and peered at them outside the window. Good for him, Juice thought to himself. Having a life outside of the club was good for all of them.

Juice, however, was so busy being happy for his old friend that he nearly forgot the reason he was here to begin with, and when Denise nudged her way through the door with her arms laden with bags, she gave a high-pitched yelp when she realized there were people situated right next to the door.

"Fuckin' -" Chibs yelped before cutting himself off. The woman he was with, however, turned quickly and allowed her gaze to settle on Denise, glancing her over.

"Is this... is this her, Filip?" she asked, turning to him with an interested expression on her face. "The girl who's helping you guys put the Triads out of business?"

"The very same."

"Mm," the woman said with a noncommittal nod, glancing Denise over once again before reaching her hand out sternly. "Sheriff. Althea Jarry," she said, giving Denise's hand a firm shake that she was surprised to find Denise reciprocating with similar strength. "Could we walk for a moment - Filip, maybe you could help her with her bags -"

"'M not your pack mule," he said with an irk of his eyebrow. Juice, however, took the opportunity to honk the horn of the car and wave, announcing his presence, and Chibs rolled his eyes slightly. taking the bags from Denise's arms to go and talk to the boy. "Don't cave, Chinadoll. Ye don't need to tell her _anything," _he said to Denise before walking off. Althea gave a slight chuckle, then placed a hand on Denise's shoulder to guide her away.

"Listen - Charming's important to me. To my career," she said smoothly. "So I need to be sure that you're following through with this and not just pissing Henry Lin off so he can rain fire and brimstone on my town -"

"_Your_ town?" Denise proceeded carefully, as this woman obviously had no idea that Jax had already gotten his hands on Henry Lin. Visibly uneasy, she crossed her arms over her chest and took a step back, which Jarry countered with a step forward.

"Yes," Jarry said, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "My town. You've probably gotten the impression that SAMCRO runs everything, but that - well, that is a matter of opinion. Now, I know you're a nice girl. A good kid. But it's going to take more than a _good kid_ to take down the Triads."

"Nice girl. Good kid," Denise repeated, nodding to herself with a smirk. "Well you're in luck, _Sheriff_, because I happen to be neither of those things."

"Right," Jarry said - Denise could tell that the older woman wasn't _trying_ to be condescending, but was coming off that way anyway. "Well, then. Just make sure you don't bite off more than you can chew, alright, Denise?"

Denise forced a smile, doing her best to conceal, especially from Chibs who seemed smitten out of his wits with her, the fact that she didn't feel quite right around this woman at all.

* * *

><p>"Way to go, Chibby," Juice chuckled as he got out of the car, pulling the bags from Chibs' arms and moving to open the trunk. "Nailin' the Sheriff -"<p>

"Aye," Chibs interrupted shortly, catching Juice by surprise. Chibs normally wouldn't have been so secretive about a new conquest - but, knowing that he was still not off of thin ice with everyone in the club, Juice graciously got the point. Chibs looked down at the contents of the bags and raised an eyebrow at Juice. "You and the missus indulgin' in the kinky shite?" he asked, reaching into a bag and pulling out a small plastic bag of colorful toy water guns. Juice laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Those are for Abel - Jax is throwing him a birthday party. Well, Dee is throwing it _for_ him."

"He's made the two of you his personal event planners?" Chibs asked incredulously, following suit and putting down the bag he was holding as well and looking down at its contents - admittedly, he wasn't sure if it was relieving to know that Jax had Denise shopping for Abel's birthday party. He might have actually preferred to find out Juice had some weird children's toy kink. "Prez seems to be goin' soft."

"'S what I said," Juice shrugged, shoving the last bag into the trunk. "But Dee seems to trust him, and he's workin' pretty hard to keep her around, so -"

"So you're hidin' behind a woman for protection?" Chibs asked disdainfully - but the disappointment in his voice was laced with something strange, something unfamiliar. The disapproval seemed only lukewarm, and the accusation sounded strangely guilty for a moment before he cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Well, if the lass is crazy enough to be that head over heels for ye, Juicy, then more power to you."

Juice laughed, shrugging - it felt _good_ to talk to Chibs again. Perhaps things weren't quite water under the bridge yet, but the tides were certainly easing up on him, and that in and of itself was worth thanking Denise for.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So, the verdict is in! Pending any edits and additions, "On the Rocks" is going to be about 38 or 39 chapters long, and at the same time as the final chapter, I will post the first chapter of the sequel, which is tentatively titled "Lay Me Down". The title is actually taken from the title of a song by Dirty Heads, which has been one of the songs in my Juice/Denise playlist (yes, I have one!) that helps me get the right mood to their scenes. There aren't really any big hints about the story hidden in the song or anything, but it's definitely worth giving a listen to, because I love the song. I might start leaking out a few more of my playlist songs, though I don't have enough to have one for every chapter. So, keep your eyes peeled!_

_Anyway, this is one of my shorter chapters, I believe, but it's some important setup for events to come. Next chapter, we're going to have Abel's birthday party as well as another big event that causes a big shakeup. Also, ahead of time, apologies for any Althea Jarry fans, because chances are, she's not going to be the most universally liked character in the plotlines to come._

_As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to all of you readers and reviewers. You make it so amazingly worthwhile to find time to write and edit this story, even with everything I have going on in real life. I love hearing from all of you! So, I hope to be able to update at some point over the weekend. Until then, cheers!_


	30. Chapter 30

"Did you put crack in the macaroni salad, babe?" Juice asked, peering his head in the back door - all day so far, his face had borne a pained expression at the fact that he had practically all of Abel's class from school running around the house in their party gear, plucked straight from their party favor bags.

"Did I what?"

"Did you spike the salad you made?" Juice asked. "Because the kids are inhaling it and I'm pretty sure that if we don't get some more out, there's gonna be a riot -"

"This is a kids' party, not a prison block."

"Same difference!"

So, Denise was back in the kitchen, trying to remember how exactly she had made the macaroni salad, considering the fact that she could no longer get to the website she'd gotten it from. All of the bored and overwhelmed parents of the party guests, as it turned out, were sucking up all of the WiFi. She was still boiling another pot of macaroni when a blonde-haired woman slinked into the kitchen, leaning onto the counter next to her.

"Nice party," she said, craning her neck to make sure she had Denise's attention. "I don't think we've met. I'm Wendy."

Wendy. Denise's knowledge of Wendy Case was limited to the fact that she was Abel's biological mother - not his mommy. Tara had wanted Wendy to play a larger role in caring for the children, but now that she was gone, Jax quickly rescinded the responsibilities from his ex-wife and continued to keep her very far on the margins of their lives. He called her when he was desperate for a hand, but now that Denise and Juice were around, those instances were few and far between. Jax had regarded Denise with disbelief when she suggested they invite her, but obliged, saying that with as many kids as they'd invited, they'd need the help.

Now, Denise realized one thing about Wendy Case - she was intense, and a little bit intimidating.

"Hi," Denise said weakly, feeling immediately squirmy. "Thanks -"

"Listen, I've heard you're really sweet. A really nice girl," the older woman said. "And I've heard that Abel is really close to you. I just need to know that you're not some poor little rich girl who's here out of pity and is gonna go running right back out," she said quickly. "Because my son's lost enough people that he's gotten close to. He lost Tara. Now he's lost Gemma, he's practically lost his dad. He doesn't need someone temporarily around playing mommy -"

"I'm not playing mommy," Denise interrupted firmly. "I care about the boys. I'm just trying to help."

"Good," Wendy said. She paused, apparently appeased by the response, and glanced at the haphazard organization of the kitchen and allowed her mouth to quirk into a grin on one side. "I'm not much of a homemaker, but it looks like you could use a break."

"I could've used a break hours ago," Denise admitted. She gave a tired, grudging laugh before Wendy nodded for her to head outside, where Juice was meandering around the riled up throng of children. The boys were playing with plastic water guns on one side of the yard, thankfully separated from the girls sitting at a small picnic table doing crafts. Denise walked over to the girls and began peering over at what they were doing. A wry smile crossed her lips when she saw that one of the girls was actually making a card for Abel, complete with glitter and hand-drawn pictures.

Ah, young love.

After a few minutes, Denise sat down next to some of the girls to help them hold things in place - and mostly to keep them from dropping glitter all over the table instead of on their artwork. Within minutes, however, one of them had managed to knock an entire container of glitter over, and because Denise had been leaning over to help another little girl, the glitter jar's contents flew all over her front and down her shirt. Denise leapt up and attempted to shake it off, only to find that the tiny shining bits were adamant in clinging to her skin.

"Oh my _God_, that's hella _itchy_ -"

"Hella itchy," Denise heard Juice repeat behind her with an unrestrained chuckle. "That's cute. Your Bay Area roots are showing. _Hella _showing -"

Denise opened her mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by another unexpected sensation - this time, something cold and wet hitting her side. She yelped as she realized that Abel, cackling with glee, had shot her with this water gun.

"You said it was itchy! I'm helping!" he said joyously. Then, from her other side, another splash of water - Juice had borrowed a toy gun from another one of the boys and sprayed her on the back of the neck so that now, she had been soaked on both sides.

"Look, baby, I helped too!" he smirked, shrugging innocently.

Jax looked on from the porch with his arms crossed - he was _glad_ to see his son having at least a few moments of a normal childhood, a more normal childhood than he could have given him. He nearly felt as though he had no right being a part of it, being who he was and having done what he'd done. By now, Denise was fighting off both Juice and Abel, haranguing her with water guns until they ran out of water and she retreated inside to change into a dry set of clothes. While she was in the house, Juice found himself on the porch near Jax and the pair remained locked in silence until Jax wordlessly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Juice stared down at them in trepidation before taking one and pulling the lighter from his pocket.

This, he realized, was a truce. An official cease-fire.

"Man," Jax said, taking a drag and letting out a grudging laugh as he looked out over the backyard full of kids. "Y'know, I never thought any kid of mine would have so many fuckin' friends," he said, shaking his head. Juice laughed nervously as well, realizing that he needed this cigarette just as badly to take the edge off - this conversation, as casual as it seemed, terrified him, and that simple fact did not evade Jax's notice.

"You and me," he said, shifting so he was leaning on his heels back against the porch railing. "We're good, man. Square. You brought Denise here, and we're gonna make things right once I get a little more… assurance."

"What do you -"

"You'll see soon."

* * *

><p>The party went on for a good few hours - it was frankly amazing that with the amount of running around the kids were doing that they didn't fall asleep where they stood. But, in the midst of it all, Juice and Denise caught on that one by one, the kuttes disappeared from the crowd. The club was <em>leaving<em>. Finally, Jax approached them from behind, placing a hand on both of their shoulders.

"Wendy and Lyla have the party covered," he said in a low voice. "You two come with me."

They left as inconspicuously as possible, with Denise reluctantly getting onto the back of Juice's back and clinging to him tightly when she became completely unfamiliar with where they were going. As Juice followed Jax down the road, however, he became _keenly_ aware of where they were going, and he felt a moment of terror, as he had no desire to go back. But there was no choice. Jax finally wanted _peace_ with him, didn't he?

Suddenly, Juice was not entirely sure. He felt himself shudder involuntarily when they pulled up in front of a cabin, where the rest of the club was waiting, creating a semi-circle around the front of the cabin as though guarding something. Denise swung over the boke and hopped off, pulling the helmet off and looking back and forth between Juice and Jax.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice considerably weaker sounding than normal as she noticed the sick expression on her husband's face. "What are we doing here?"

Jax motioned wordlessly for her to come closer - Denise approached with Juice standing behind her, and she stared down in confusion as Jax handed her a pair of gloves. Her brow furrowed as she realized that this did not bode well - but there was no way out. She shakily accepted them, slipping them onto her hands and flexing her fingers to try and gain her bearings.

"Your _brother_," Jax began silkily, "is poised to take over everything if anything happens to your uncle. Did you know?"

"No," Denise snapped honestly. "I - I - _hold on_," she said, her voice punctuated with a gasp. "I thought - I thought my uncle was dead? I thought -"

"We're getting there," Jax said simply. "But that is where we need something from _you_."

He gestured into the window of the cabin, and as Denise peered through the dusty, dirty glass, she gasped, taking a small leap back and nearly colliding with Juice who caught her by the shoulders. Henry Lin was inside, tied to a chair, conscious but just barely. His face was bruised and emaciated as though he'd endured a number of beatings - he no doubt had.

"We've been trying to get him to spill who he's been doing business with besides Alvarez," Jax said simply. "But he won't talk. So, I'm done fuckin' around with the guy who tried to kill my boys." He paced a few shuffling steps before reaching into his kutte and pulling out a gun, holding it out to Denise.

"So you're going to finish him for me."

Denise looked down at the gun Jax was handing to her, her eyes wide in disbelief. Her immediate reaction was to turn around, staring at Juice in outrage.

"You - did you... you brought me out here," she stammered, her face pinched in barely-contained horror at the situation she was in. The entire party had been a cover - an alibi. It had all been planned out to allow time for them to slip away and come _here_. "Did you know?" Denise asked in outrage. For the first time, her face was fierce, enraged even, realizing for the first time the enormous _clusterfuck_ she'd gotten herself into, getting involved with Juice and with SAMCRO. "Juice, did you _know_ -"

"No! Baby - baby, I didn't know anything about this, I swear!" Juice said, holding his hands up before staring at Jax. For a moment, he felt a surge of bravery, as though he would _say_ something, as though he would refuse to let them do this to his wife. Juice could tell from the look in her eyes, even if she didn't say a word, she was begging - _pleading_ with him to somehow get her out of this. This was too much. But Jax had done the same thing to him, Juice knew. He'd gotten Juice to _kill_, right in the very same cabin. He would get what he wanted, no matter how much Juice wanted this time to be different. "Jax, come on," he protested weakly, glancing around in futile hope that one of the others would step out of line and come to his aid. "Gimme the gun - I'll take care of Lin, just -"

"Look, I'm sorry it has to come to this," Jax snapped. "I need to know that she's _with_ us, once and for all -"

"What more do you need?"

"_This_," Jax said, forcing the gun into Denise's hands, his gaze firey and harsh. "I want to see once and for all that she's on our side. I swear to God if you're just stringing us along -"

"_Jackie_," came Chibs voice from where he stood in formation with the other guys, snapping everyone's gaze towards him. "What are you doing? She's just a girl."

"I need to know that she's what she says she is," Jax said coldly. "She said she wants out of that family. I need to know how badly she wants that." Denise closed her hand around the gun, feeling herself shaking. She gulped, looked back over her shoulder at Juice who now looked pale and sick, like he usually was when she drove, and finally looked back at Jax.

"Fine," she said, her voice stiff as though she were fighting back being sick herself. "Lemme inside."

Jax nodded and backed up a few steps, opening the door just enough for Denise to slip inside before he shut the door behind her. It was now that Juice - and all of the other guys, for that matter - realized why Juice had brought everyone here. Either Denise got the job done - killed Henry Lin on Jax's order - or she didn't leave the cabin alive. Juice stared in the dirty window as his wife approached the man tied up inside the cabin, and he didn't know which of the two would be worse.

* * *

><p>"Meimei."<p>

Denise found herself frozen in place when she got inside the old cabin. From afar, it looked like Henry had been unconscious or asleep, but when the door opened, he lifted his head as much as he could to look at her, while she leveled the gun with arms that shook so badly it almost felt as though her joints would shatter from knocking against one another.

"I'm your flesh and blood, Mei," Henry said. His voice was practically a croak, and now that Denise was closer to him, she could see the trails of dried blood that ran down the side of his chin. "Your father was my brother -"

"Did you love him like one?" Denise asked, her voice suddenly affronted at the mention of her father. "Did you love him like a brother, or like a _half-brother_?"

"He wouldn't want you to kill me," Henry pressed on, seeing that he was striking a nerve in his young niece's already frantic state. "We are your family, Charles and I. We are your only family -"

"If I told you that you would never have the money as long as I lived, would I still be family then?" Denise snarled, her fear now replaced with a mix of sorrow and rage for the man in front of her. "If I was in your place and you were in mine, would you hesitate?"

Henry was silent, but he stared up at his niece defiantly. There was no need to lie to her if she knew.

"You wanted them dead," Denise continued, her heart almost feeling like it would burst at the memory of her father and grandfather. "And you were going to kill me - or sell me to Nero Padilla. You were going to give him a cut as long as I disappeared for good. I know everything, Uncle -"

"You're weak," he hissed, glaring at her with as much anger as he could now muster. "You let these barbarian bikers get into your head and feed you all of this," he continued. "Is your head all they've gotten into, _mei_? You've been passed around between them, haven't you? At least with Padilla, you would've gotten paid -"

Juice felt his heart sink when from outside, he heard three consecutive shots fired. He looked at Jax, who looked strangely unsure of himself and his decision as well, especially when after a few moments, Denise did not emerge from the cabin. With another shared glance, Jax and Juice both took long strides forward, pulling open the door and walking into the cabin.

Henry Lin, still tied to the chair, was hunched over and dead with a shot to his stomach, chest, and head. Denise, who had dropped the gun to the floor, had back up against the wall, looking down at the blood spattered on her shirt until finally, her knees gave out beneath her and she sank to the floor without making a sound.

"Take 'er home," Jax said, looking away from Denise with his voice strained with guilt. "Take that shirt off 'er and get her outta here. We'll clean this up."

Juice didn't need to be told twice. He hurriedly pulled Denise to her feet and got her outside, where the others, still on their bikes, stared at her with silent, doleful expressions, though they looked away respectfully as Juice took off the gloves from her hands and pulled the shirt off of her, wrapping his own jacket around her so she wouldn't be left in the cold in only a bra. Jax had crossed a line this time, and they knew it, but Denise had done the job. She'd done as she was asked.

She'd proven herself.

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And this is why I can't have nice things - it was supposed to be a nice birthday party chapter, but you know how these things go._

_I just wanted to, as always, thank everyone who reviewed! and gave their feedback! The next delay might, again, possibly be slow because of moving and other lovely things related to having a new place. I'm also in the process of getting acclimated to a new project at my job which I'm really excited about. But anyway, as always, I love hearing from all of you! So, until the next update, cheers!_


	31. Chapter 31

"I just wanna be by myself, okay?"

Denise clutched the jacket desperately around herself as they got back to the driveway of the house, where thankfully the party guests had all left. Juice, however, didn't want Denise to storm inside and lock herself away - not now. He knew the shitstorm that her thoughts had to be in that moment, because he'd been in the middle of it too, and he hadn't been able to do anything to protect her from it. He was supposed to be her _husband_. "I don't think that's a good idea," he protested feebly. Denise, however, shook her head.

"I need a minute, okay? I need a - a minute to just think and - and -" she said, her voice wavering. Juice looked at her face and realized that she had likely been crying for the entire ride home on the back of his bike. "Can you at least give me _that_ much?"

"Okay." Juice began. However, when she started walking a few steps away from him, he gave a small groan, catching her by the arm and pulling her back so she couldn't run away into the house. "You know what? No - I can't do that."

"Juice, please," Denise pleaded through clenched teeth. He saw a brief tremble of her lip, a small tell but a tell nonetheless that she was close to cracking. "I don't want to talk about what happened -"

"If I let you walk in there, you're gonna pretend it _didn't_, until - until…" Juice's voice trailed off, and he felt a chill run through him at the possibility of what Denise could do if she could no longer handle what had to have been running through her head. He remembered the story at the cliffs at the beach, how she had one day just run off and stayed there all night, contemplating the possibility of jumping. "Babe, just… say something about what happened in there. Be pissed at me -"

"You said you didn't know -"

"But I didn't protect you either, and I shoulda. I _shoulda_," Juice said, his face riddled with pain as he gave her arm a small shake. "I don't know what got into me, but I know I shoulda -"

"There's nothing you could've done - you offered to do it for me, it wasn't good enough for Jax. I did it. It's _done_," Denise said with a deep breath. "Can you - can you _please_ just let me go?"

She took hurried steps inside and intended to simply do what Juice didn't want her to, holing herself up in the room and not coming out - but she was stopped in her tracks by Abel, who ran towards her and grabbed her around her knees, shaking her eagerly.

"I saved you cake, Aunt Deedee," he said proudly, pointing at the kitchen counter, close to where Wendy was standing and doing the dishes. She looked at Denise with a knowing expression, seeing the look on the younger woman's face, but respectfully refrained from asking questions that weren't hers to ask.

"Cake? That's great, buddy!" Denise said, forcing on a smile for Abel's sake - and seeing her _pretending_ this way was like another knife in Juice's chest. She'd been so genuinely happy hours ago, throwing Abel this party, that Juice had silently spent most of the day wondering how happy she would be when they had kids of their own. For a few hours, he had _forgotten_ that they were in Charming. Jax Teller, however, had a way of bringing you down to reality very quickly, and tonight he had done an even more thorough job than usual - because there was no way in hell Juice could have forgotten that they were back in Charming now.

"Yeah," Abel nodded. "After you and Daddy left early, we cut the birthday cake! I saved you and Daddy the biggest pieces but you were gone a long time so... I ate a little of yours," he admitted with a shrug. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Denise laughed weakly. "It looks like it's the perfect size for me. Maybe too big, even - you might need to gimme a hand with it. Just let me go get changed and we can put on some cartoons and share it."

"Where's your shirt? Did you guys get in another water gun fight?" Abel asked, his eyebrows jumping in surprise, squinting at the way Aunt Deedee pulled her jacket around herself. Denise's smile stiffened, but she simply shrugged evasively, reaching out and ruffling Abel's hair.

"I'll be out in a second, alright?"

Denise changed quickly, brushed her hair, and tied it back somewhat sloppily - she noticed that Wendy and Juice had clearly stepped out, and Wendy was likely hearing Juice's retelling of what had just happened. Denise, however, wanted to no part of reliving it. Instead, she grabbed the cake off of the counter and a couple of forks, bringing Abel over to join her in finishing the piece of cake he had worked so hard to save. Denise reached out and turned on the television, flipping through channels until Abel yelped for her to stop.

_Great_, she thought with a tired smirk. _Spongebob_.

"Did you get smoke in your eyes again?" Abel asked, squinting slightly while he got a look at Denise's face up close during a commercial break. Denise chuckled and nodded, but Abel's face quickly turned incredulous. He blinked at her in a stalemate for a seconds before frowning. "You're a good bullshitter, Aunt Deedee."

Denise's eyes widened in surprise - not only at the young boy's choice of language, but at the fact that his observations were so astute for someone so young.

"I know it's cuz you cried," Abel said before shoving another mouthful of cake into his mouth. "And I know you threw me a party because my daddy forgot about me -"

"Abel," Denise chided reflexively - even she felt strange about the fact that she so quickly leapt to Jax Teller's defense, even after what he had just done to her. But there was no need to drag Abel into any of it - Denise was still adamant, in the face of all this chaos, that above all else, you never ruined a child's vision of the people they trusted. _Never. _Trust mattered. "Your Daddy didn't _forget_ you, honey."

"Yeah, he did. He always does. He forgets about me and Tommy all the time," Abel explained - the most heartbreaking part was that he didn't even seem perturbed by it anymore. "But Mommy always remembered. And Grandma. But now, they're both not here," Abel supplied through a mouthful of chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream. "They're both gone."

"Your grandma's not gone, Abel," Denise said carefully, even knowing that Jax probably wouldn't want her talking to Abel about Gemma. "She just... she has a lot of things that she needs to fix."

"Did Daddy make her go away?"

"No," Denise lied. "Your Daddy didn't make her go away. She just wanted to go somewhere and make sure she was okay. She needed to fix up some things and learn some things so she wouldn't make mistakes anymore. She's made some big mistakes -"

"My mommy said that sometimes, you make mistakes because you love somebody so much. Like, _this much_," he said, throwing his arms out wide. "But if it's for the right reasons, sometimes it's not a mistake anymore."

Denise gave a small smile - she didn't know if Gemma would fall under such a category, but she knew one thing - if this _Tara_ had still been alive, Denise was sure they would have gotten along.

* * *

><p>When Jax pulled up in front of Juice's house, he already saw it coming that Wendy was getting the details on everything. He sneered as he took off his helmet and sauntered up towards the porch, where Juice was still talking to her. She spotted him and looked on with an expression of disappointment.<p>

"Are you _serious_ Jax?" she asked in a hushed tone. "You had the girl plan your son -_ our son_'s birthday party, then you drag her out into the woods to have her _murder _a man? Are you fuckin' serious, Jax? She barely looks like she's hit _puberty_-"

"She's going on twenty-five, and I don't think you're in a position to lecture me about makin' _bad fucking decisions_, Wendy," he said calmly. His nostrils flared slightly, and the unspoken threat lingered. Wendy wanted to take the boys away too, just like Tara had planned to - but while Jax cared for Tara enough to finally acquiesce, he clearly didn't have the same high regards for Wendy. He shook his head, then looked over at Juice. "How's she holdin' up?"

"Better than I did," Juice replied bitterly, unable to stop the retort from leaving his mouth. Jax sneered, but decided to give Juice that one. After a pause, likely waiting to see if Jax would lash out or not in reply, Juice nodded towards the door. "She's in there with Abel. He saved her some cake so I'm pretty sure he's got her distracted."

If chocolate cake could serve as a distraction for the fact that you had murdered a person, however, it would have been a lot more fucking expensive. Jax nodded, and the three of them started back on inside, where again, Abel had fallen asleep on Denise, who was sitting on the couch, staring blankly forward. Juice cleared his throat, and she slowly turned her head, looking surprised to see Jax enter.

"I had to do it," he said, the apologetic tone in his voice coming from left field, judging by the confused expression on Denise's face. "And I'm sorry. You might need somethin' a little stronger than chocolate cake to take the edge off."

Denise hardly had the fortitude to say no to anything they suggested, even though Juice had his initial misgivings about giving her _something stronger_ to take the edge off of what she had done. Despite Wendy's obvious chagrin, Jax, Juice, and Denise had each pulled up some of the plastic lawn chairs from the party onto the back porch, armed with a few blunts and a bottle of Patron. Denise was small enough to curl up comfortably in the chair, her legs dangling over the arm of the chair as she took a hit from the blunt in her hand.

It felt good, to just _not_ talk about what had just happened. It felt good to just get high and get past it - Juice, even in spite of the mild haziness he started to feel, was worried for Denise, that maybe the high would start feeling a little too good. He stared at her as she stared off into the distance, and he flinched slightly when Jax spoke up.

"Listen, man," Jax said, his voice slurring slightly from the pleasant crossfade between the alcohol and the weed - a far cry from the stony, cold tone he had used to get Denise to shoot a man in cold blood, just hours earlier. "It's been fuckin' gnawing at me. I wanna know how it went down."

And Juice knew immediately what Jax was talking about - he wanted to know about Tara, why Juice had hidden it from him, what he'd seen. _Everything_. And in the moment of lowered guard as the high really kicked it, it came spilling out. Juice spilled about how after Jax had first revealed that he knew Juice had betrayed him, he'd been desperate - desperate not to lose the only family he could ever claim. And Gemma had just looked so _helpless_, and he didn't realize it was _Tara_ who was dead on the floor by Gemma until after he'd already killed Eli. The words tumbled out clumsy, and Jax had to take a view hits over the course of the explanation to keep his composure. Denise's head and lolled lazily to one side, watching them blankly.

Jax, however, reacted strangely - he laughed, shaking his head and throwing back a shot of Patron. "You're a fuckin' idiot, Juice," he chuckled bitterly.

"I thought I was helping," Juice said, downing a shot as well and shaking his head. "She said everythin' would fall apart even worse, that the club needed her. _You_ needed her -"

"You're a gullible. Little. Fuck. _Jesus Christ_," Jax said wearily, rubbing the heel of his hand over his forehead and back over his hair, mussing it considerably before shoving it back into place. "But your wife - I don't know if she can even _hear_ us right now, because she looks pretty fuckin' high -"

"I hear you."

"She was right about Lin," Jax said, taking a hit from his blunt again and continuing to talk to Juice, not entirely acknowledging Denise's interruption. Truth be told, he had _hoped _that maybe she was too high to process any of this, because he had no clue what to say to her. His father, he knew, would have had too much honor to do what he'd done - he'd dragged a woman into club business, exploited the fact that she was young and in love. But these were different times, Jax thought. This was a different SAMCRO, and Denise was a different kind of person. "Lin had it in for us before any of this - I just don't know who else he's been workin' with, and I need to get my hands on that information. I need to break into his place -"

"Which one?" Denise asked lazily, arching an eyebrow. "He has a few places, scattered up and down the Bay Area. Twin Peaks, Piedmont, Burlingame - I've never seen any of the stuff you're looking for, but he probably doesn't keep all his shit in one place either. Charles and I each have the spare keys."

"Then I'm going to be needing those. Is that something you can do, Mrs. Ortiz?" Jax asked coolly. "Nobody knows your Uncle's dead. _Yet_. If we can get in and out without kickin' up a stink or breakin' any windows -"

"Done," Denise shrugged. "I don't care. As long as you get it done. That money's mine in a week, and I don't know what happens then. To me, or... or to anybody."

A week. Denise's birthday was in seven days - and instead of some kind of a celebration, Juice realized, it was all about the money. Denise had completely immersed herself, _lost_ herself in Charming and in SAMCRO life, and if she got too far in, he was going to lose her to it.

"You know that your brother is the one taking the helm, right?" Jax asked seriously through the thin veil of smoke from his last hit. He lazily waved his hand to clear the smoke and cocked his head. "You know that Charles is gonna be calling the shots with the Triads now?"

"I know."

"You know he's gonna need to meet Mr. Mayhem?" Jax insisted. "Dee, I need to make it clear to you. By the time this is over, your _brother_ is going to be dead. He's gonna take up where your Uncle left off, and I can't let that continue."

Denise froze and inhaled sharply, coughing slightly as some of the atmospheric smoke displaced by Jax's movements unexpectedly filled her lungs. Juice took another hit to keep from saying anything, and Jax shook his head.

"Dee," he continued. "We need to clean up this mess, or he'll be after us. After you."

"I _know_," she repeated. "I get it."

And she did - Denise understood well enough that her brother had long ceased to hold their blood bond sacred, and it was time for her to do the same, whatever path that led them down.

* * *

><p>Less than an hour later, Juice had finally gotten Denise to bed - they both faintly still smelled of dank and Patron, but he could just as easily wash the smell out of the sheets in the morning if it meant letting her finally rest. She was out cold within a couple minutes of laying on the sheets, and Juice couldn't help but stare at her, his arm draped over her side as she slept. She finally looked <em>peaceful<em>. The fact that it took being drunk and high to get her there was a blow that Juice might as well have felt physically.

"I'm sorry, baby," Juice whispered, his voice slightly choked and hoarse. "Don't bail on me, babe. Don't hate me."

For all her insistence that all of this would have happened anyway, with or without him, Juice couldn't help but feel that everything that had happened to Denise in the recent weeks had been his fault. He didn't know if she would have somehow been better off, but he did know that if she'd had the choice, she wouldn't be what she had become since arriving in Charming. Cross-faded, married to a guy she'd known for shy of two months, a murderer. He didn't doubt that she _loved_ him - Juice could never doubt that after everything she'd done - but it instilled a sense of fear in him now. If loving him put her through all of this... how long could it possibly last?

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_The next couple of chapters are going to be rough for anyone rooting for a Juice/Denise happily ever after - at this point, things will really begin hitting the fan. But anyway, the end of this story is still a bit of a ways away, and there is still plenty that needs to happen. In true Sons of Anarchy fashion, things are gonna get a little messy - though so far, I've steered clear of character deaths. Still - things happen, so don't get too comfy! So, sit tight and enjoy the ride! Cheers!_


	32. Chapter 32

When Denise was sobered up enough the next morning and able to, after a Tylenol and three cups of coffee brought to her by Juice, finally clamber out of bed, she handed over the keys to Jax as promised to every single one of Henry Lin's safehouses, and Jax eyed them like pure gold. Having, for once, dropped off his own sons at school and daycare, he left Juice and Denise alone in the house, sitting on the couch. Denise was curled up slightly, clad in a threadbare hoodie and leggings, wedged into the corner of the couch for warmth.

"It's - it's okay if you're not okay, you know," Juice finally managed to speak up - it was difficult for him, _not_ being the one in turmoil and instead needing to be the one in his right mind. He didn't know how to be the _responsible_ one, the one who provided the crying shoulder. But, by God, he was going to try. Denise, however, simply laughed, shaking her head.

"I don't think now is a good time to lose it," she shrugged. "If I lose it now, we're stuck. We're screwed -"

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Juice asked, closing his hand gently around her forearm. "Baby, look at you. You can't keep going like this -"

"I don't have a choice," Denise answered. What did it matter anymore what she wanted anyway? Juice, however, couldn't stand the idea that she was going through this and there was nothing he could do. Her pretty face was so weary and tired, having lost the glow that Juice had only been able to truly enjoy for a few weeks in Stockton, back when they were trying to simply be two people in love. Juice missed her - the Denise who did homework and played video games, who ate dim sum in her underwear on the sofa. She seemed older now, and Juice felt as though that had to have been his fault.

He snaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close so that her tiny form slid across the couch and into his side, where she let out a heaving sigh and leaned back against his chest. He knew without her saying it in so many words that she was completely spent - that she just wanted to get all of this over and done with. He, on the other hand, wanted to fight tooth and nail to somehow keep her away from it. Juice knew, though, that as good as his intentions were... he was too _afraid_ to simply pull her out of Charming and away from all of this.

But God knew he wanted to. God knew he meant to. And he swore, one day, he was going to.

The best he could offer was to just let her rest, and she was content to do so for the greater part of the day. It had been a while since she'd had a good rest, and while he would never go so far as to say that she was looking _bad_, Juice couldn't help but notice that she was extremely worn down. Unable to think of anything better to improve her mood, Juice had suggested that she pick whatever she wanted to watch on the television while the kids were away, and he would sit through it with her, no questions asked.

It had been easy enough to sit and watch cartoons with her - old episodes of Ren and Stimpy were classics. But once her taste moved from cartoons to Breakfast at Tiffany's, Juice was fairly sure he'd bitten off more than he could chew. But she stared with rapt attention, her knees drawn up to her chest - she was eating this shit up, Juice realized, chuckling to himself as he stared at her.

_"You musn't give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get, until they're strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree. And then to a higher tree and then to the sky..."_

Denise gave a small sigh, resting her chin on her knees after Audrey Hepburn's cool, silky voice smoothed over the particular line, and Juice squinted slightly - both at the fact that the line itself was interesting or insightful (which, he admitted, it was) and at the fact that Denise seemed to be deeply connected to it.

"Do you believe that?" she asked suddenly, reaching over and plucking a carrot stick from the bowl that Juice had put on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She took a bite, then glanced at Juice expectantly.

"Like, what?" Juice asked. "Like, that if you love someone and try to help them be better - that eventually… they stop needing you"

"Yeah," Denise asked, cutting him off. "Do you think that's true? All the time?"

Juice paused and shrugged - he hated to disappoint his wife by not providing an answer, but the truth was, he just didn't know. It wasn't something he'd lived through or ever had the chance to learn much about _until_ her. He didn't want to think it was true of course, because in his mind, if there was a wild thing in the relationship, it was Denise. He didn't realize, however, that in Denise's mind, things were exactly the opposite.

"Well, I don't think - I think that if your wild things run away after you give them all your heart, all your loyalty," Juice began unsurely. "Maybe you've been lovin' the wrong wild things."

Denise chuckled, shifting and leaning her head onto his chest comfortably - Juice gave a sigh of relief that his answer had been good enough. She was so much harder to deal with when she asked questions the way she did. But, he realized soon, that he would have much sooner taken a whole day like this afternoon had been over what came once Jax came home. He, Bobby, and Happy came through the door with Abel traipsing in behind them and Tommy being toted along in his carrier by Tig. Juice hardly had time to acknowledge their arrival as they stacked a few laptops on the coffee table in front of him, and Jax straightened up, crossing his arms.

"What's with the hardware?" Juice asked. Jax first nodded, and Bobby herded Abel away from the living room to get changed out of the clothes he'd worn to school,

"We came across these - powered 'em on, and it looked like they came from August Marks. But I didn't get anythin' else off of any of 'em, they need to be cracked. I need to know what's on 'em," he said, looking directly at Juice and not at Denise for once. "I need anything I can get about what they've been talking about - if Lin has this much equipment from Marks, that means they're talking business, and _that_ means Lin wasn't looking at cutting any _small_ deals."

Denise's lips tightened into a grimace, and she swiped a hand over her face in dismay, shaking her head. It would have been too much for her pride to admit it, but Juice knew that this was so much bigger than she had realized, than she had ever understood before getting herself into this, and he felt that familiar sense of shame just being in front of her because even if she swore over and over again that she didn't blame him, he blamed himself.

"Think you can pull anything from 'em, Juice?" Jax insisted, prompting attention back to himself, as Juice's gaze had drifted to his wife. Juice reached over and tapped the pads of his fingers gently on the laptop on the top of the stack.

"You kiddin' me? I coulda done this in kindergarten," he chuckled weakly, and Denise realized that Juice, whether he admitted it or not, was _happy_ to be given the chance to do something for Jax and for the club. She realized now with more clarity than before just how much this meant to him. Jax, on the other hand, simply nodded and glanced over at Denise.

"How about you gimme a hand with Abel? Give your man a little room to work?" he suggested, nodding away from the sofa where Denise had been comfortably situated most of the day. Perhaps a one point, she might have been offended by the suggestion that she move aside and just _let the man work_, but at this point, she found that her own curiosity - her own need to know what her Uncle had been doing - was getting the best of her. She nodded, not letting on her realization that she might have been getting sucked too far into things, just like Juice said she might.

She got up and followed Jax over to where Abel had just finished getting dressed and was occupied pulling his homework folder from school out of his backpack to show its contents to Bobby. Denise now, being around Jax without Juice for the first time since the day of Abel's birthday party, realized what it felt like to be the one keeping a secret from Jax Teller.

He know that since he had practically driven Gemma away from himself and from Charming, the woman had somehow been in contact with Juice and denise, but there had never been an opportune time to mention that Gemma was in fact hiding out at the cabin in Lovelock. While it was nowhere near as mortal a sin as the one Gemma had kept from him for months, but nonetheless, every second that it remained a secret was an added weight on the shoulders of the person who kept it.

"I'm gettin' the idea that there's a little… _animosity_ between us," Jax said calmly to Denise after they had followed Abel out to the backyard so he could play outside. She bristled, and he accepted it as confirmation of his suspicions. "Animosity is a bad thing to have between business partners, Dee. Makes things messy."

"I think things were messy to begin with," she said shortly. "I have done _everything_ you've asked of me, Jax, and I've done it in good faith that at some point, I'll have proven myself. But if that's not coming, I wanna know now."

"I needed to know you were willing to take down Lin. I needed to know that you weren't playing both sides," he explained calmly, leaning on the porch railing as he watched his son kick a ball against the tree in the back. "I can only afford to do business to people who are loyal. People who I can consider -"

"- _friends_?" Denise interrupted. Jax turned and glanced at the woman next to him in surprise at the suggestion, not because it was unwelcome, but because it was unexpected. He smirked and chuckled, shaking his head.

"You wanna be _friends_ with me, Dee? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

"What were you going to say?"

"Friends," Jax shrugged. "And then I expected you to spit in my face."

"I don't spit," Denise said with a frown. "It's a nasty habit."

"I'm sure Juice is thankful for _that_ one."

Denise's face quickly shifted to an expression of surprise at the fact that Jax Teller had just _cracked a joke_. The idea, after the bulk of their interactions thus far, that he was capable of it seemed barely even a distant possibility until now - Denise allowed a lopsided grin, rolling her eyes.

"Don't make me regret suggesting it," she laughed throatily, shaking her head. "It's just, in my experience - if forced to choose, friends are better to have than enemies."

"I'll drink to that."

"You're gonna _drink_, Daddy?" Abel called out, having chased the soccer ball close to the porch and overhearing a small portion of the tail end of the conversation. "I thought you said -"

"Chocolate milk, buddy," Jax interrupted. "Aunt Deedee and I are gonna have some chocolate milk."

"Can I have some?"

And so, they made their way back inside to the kitchen - Denise spared a glance into the living room at Juice, who had opened and turned on all of the computers from Henry's homes, lining them all up next to each other as he stared intently from screen to screen. She paused and was admittedly curious. She'd never seen _this_ side of him, even if she knew that computers were his specialty. Jax cleared his throat gently and nodded for Denise to have a seat at the counter- to let Juice simply _do his thing_.

Indeed, Juice seemed to completely tune out everything, including Abel's animated retelling of how he had nearly socked another boy in the teeth for saying that the story of Ma Liang and the Magic Paintbrush wasn't a real story, but had stopped himself. Denise let out a sigh of relief.

"Not everybody's heard that one, sweetie," Denise laughed, shaking her head and reaching out to ruffle his hair. Abel wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Well," he began. "Anyway, after I decided to not punch 'im, he said it was a cool story and he said we could be friends. He wants to come over after school one day. Is that okay, Daddy?"

"You gotta ask your Aunt Deedee if it's okay with her, buddy, it's her house."

"Aunt Deedee, can my friend come over?"

Denise had no intention of saying no, of course, so she was caught slightly off guard by the fact that Jax looked at her in pleading. And then it hit her that Abel had been having a hard time making friends in school - people talked about him being the kid with the _dead mom_, and sometimes shied away from him, thinking he was too withdrawn, too quiet. But now he had been talking to his classmates, playing with them, coming home with stories about them. Denise then realized that even if much of the reasoning behind the birthday party was to create a cover for getting rid of Henry Lin, the party _had_ been important to Jax.

"He's done a total one-eighty since you've been here - talks to people again, plays with other kids again," Jax said to Denise, staring at his sone chugging away at his chocolate milk. "Doesn't feel like a total freak. It's tough on him - a mom is somebody you always count on to be there, to never go anyplace…"

Denise exhaled carefully, knowing that in his own way, Jax was mourning his own mom as well, though in a very different way and for a very different reason. "That was my dad and my grandpa for me - and, I thought it was Charles too," she shrugged. "But you give me a little too much credit. He's a strong kid, he woulda bounced back on his own too -"

"I don't want my son to be another me," Jax said, shaking his head. "And I was seeing him go down that road a little more every day - he stopped cryin' after Tara died. Always scared, always havin' nightmares about the bad guys. And… fuck. I didn't know how the fuck I was supposed to tell him he'd be safe from the bad guys when I know I'm one of 'em -"

"You're not a bad guy," Denise shrugged, which, in its nonchalance, shocked Jax immensely. "You're a person with a huge burden on your shoulders. You're allowed to be tired. You're allowed to screw up."

Jax turned and seemed on the verge of actually _thanking_ her when suddenly, Juice appeared in the kitchen, an exhilarated grin on his face as he put one of the laptops down on the kitchen counter.

"_Cracked it_."

A/N's

The next chapter is going to have some very intense stuff, so I wanted to get this one out before we're all potentially traumatized by tonight's episode - I always consider that a possibility on Teller Tuesdays. The next chapter, I'm considering splitting into two chapters because there's a lot that happens, and it's about double the length of my usual updates. So, I'm still deciding as far as that goes.

Thank you as always to my regular reviewers, and to **happyfan3928** for leaving rapid-fire reviews for the first ten chapters - you are amazing! I want to take this opportunity to plug their story, "I'm with you, always" for anyone thirsty for a little more Happy. I know he doesn't get a whole lot of screentime in my story (though he might in the future) so, if you're feening for more of the killa, head on over to that story!

Anyway, the usual excuses - not entirely sure when the next update will be, but I always aim for within 48 hours. So, know that I'm trying! And of course, enjoy tonight's episode, Happy Teller Tuesday! Cheers!


	33. Chapter 33

_"Cracked it."_

Denise couldn't help but inhale sharply, clapping a hand over her mouth so not to alert Abel that something was amiss. The little boy, in any case, had gotten too distracted by walking over to Thomas, who was sitting in his carrier and had just woken up. The older boy proceeded to recount the details of his day to his still drowsy younger brother, and Jax nodded for them to conference out on the front porch.

"Lin had papers drawn up and everything - Alvarez and August Marks were each supposed to get twenty-five percent," Juice said, crossing his arms over himself as they closed the door behind them. Denise knew immediately that it meant they were supposed to each get twenty-five percent of her grandfather's money - her money, in a matter of days.

"For what?" Denise asked, shifting her weight so that her hands were on her hips. "As a goodwill gesture? Uncle Henry doesn't seem like the type to cut big checks to make friends."

"Those laptops were loaded with contracts," Juice said, shaking his head. "But no plans. Tons of legal bullshit they were drawing up with contractors, vendors. Building permits in about twenty cities on the 99," Juice shrugged. "But the details must be housed somewhere else - there's nothin' on 'em on those computers -"

"So we need to find out what they're planning," Jax said, his face grave. "We need to figure out what they're building -"

"But why does it matter?" Denise asked. "If I'm the one holding the money, they can't -

"They'll find a way," Jax interrupted, holding up a hand to hush Denise. "We might be able to swing Alvarez back our way, but even just between Marks and the Triads, they have more than enough funds to at least start whatever they're trying to do. And since Charles Kwan doesn't have the savvy that Lin did -"

"Marks is calling the shots," Juice supplied knowingly. "Fuck."

"If Charles has his hands tied and he's stuck following through with Uncle's deals," Denise began carefully, now wringing her hands and looking incredibly queasy as she began to process what was happening. "Doesn't that mean -"

"That he's still going to try and get his hands on you to cover his own ass, yeah," Jax said, crossing his arms now as well. "I think you're probably the only way he's got of gettin' himself out of this mess he's in -"

"Then we're not safe here anymore," Juice said abruptly, turning to Denise. "Once you turn 25 and that money's yours, there's no more reason not to hurt you. You and me need to -"

"Denise isn't going anywhere," Jax said preemptively, seeing that for a moment, there seemed to be an unspoken proposition between Juice and Denise what they had to do to keep safe - they wanted to get out of Charming. Jax couldn't have that happen. He had to keep control - he couldn't lose his grip on the pieces he had set up. He had to know where the chips were falling, and in this game, Denise was the most important piece.

Juice stared, dumbfounded at the blonde-haired man, and couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. "You've got that appointment in Sac tomorrow," Jax continued calmly. "Chibs is taking you - and Denise is staying here to make sure you don't pull a disappearing act. You're good at that."

"Man, fuck," Juice said, his forehead wrinkling. His hand went reflexively upward to touch his chest, the still slightly tender spot where his tattoos were in the process of being removed. He had actually nearly forgotten he was due for another session. "It's not safe here. You want to keep the fuckin' money safe, I'm taking my wife and we're gonna lay low -"

"I need you two where I have access to you," Jax said through gritted teeth. "So Denise is going to stay here -"

"You're gonna make her stay here?"

"Yeah, I am," Jax said defiantly, his eyes narrowing as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone - the burner he had been using when he had lured Lin to the warehouse. He flipped it open and held out the screen for Juice and Denise to both see the picture he had sent to Henry Lin - the dead woman who looked like Denise, Juice's name in the signature.

"You two can't go into hiding, and you can't go missing," he said calmly, clicking the phone shut and tucking it away again, not even reacting to any of their astonished expressions. "Because everyone will think Denise is dead, and Henry Lin's phone could very easily slip into some cop's hands because it is currently in the hands of Marcus Alvarez, who will hand it over on _my_ word. If she goes missing within days of her uncle, it'll raise a big fuckin' stink. They'll see the picture. They'll be looking for you, you won't have the peaceful little life in hiding - you'll be fugitives -"

"Fuck you, Jax," Denise said, her face contorting in anger - an hour ago, she had suggested that they be friends, and all along, he'd been holding _this_ ace up his sleeve. Her shoulders shook in fury. "You set this up? The whole time?"

"I had to," he sneered. "I need you here, in Charming, where I can fucking see you and make sure -"

"That you control all hundred-seventy million, yeah, I get it," Denise said coldly. There was a moment of frigid, defiant eye contact before she let out a slow hiss and shook her head.

More than anything, she wanted to run away with Juice and never look back. More than _anything_. But Jax was hell-bent on finishing his business with Lin, and he had taken all necessary measures to make sure they couldn't jump ship on him now. If Juice still had hope that they could get away, that they could be happy together on the run, Denise wasn't so sure.

"Fuck it," she shrugged hopelessly. "I'll stay."

"What?" Juice said, suddenly seeming as though he had absorbed the anger that Denise had just let go of. "I don't give a fuck who's chasing us - baby -"

"It looks like the lady's made up her mind," Jax shrugged, reaching for the door. Juice seethed, staring at Jax in utter disbelief. A part of him felt that he shouldn't have been surprised by Jax's actions, that it had been silly to even consider the possibility of Jax Teller cutting him some slack. "I'll let you two talk."

After Jax had retreated inside and shut the door behind him, Juice rounded on Denise, running his hands over the sides of his head and scratching the back of his neck furiously. "Are you fuckin' serious? You're actually gonna stay here?"

"Juice, what choice do I have? If I leave with you, what are we gonna run to? The cabin with Gemma? Stay out there with her forever?" she said in a low voice, throwing her arms out to the side in exasperation. "We can keep running and running and running until we run out of road, but this isn't going to end unless -"

"I can't fuckin' believe you, Dee!"

"What do you want from me?" she asked in disbelief. "I didn't ask for any of this, Juice, but we have to face it! We can't just pretend it's not happening! We have to see this through to the end. Jax fucked us over, but - but helping him shut down the Triads is the only way -"

"So Jax is going to fix all of your fucking problems," Juice sneered. "Because he's a superhero, right? That's what you've been telling Abel? I'm your husband, Dee - and you swore to me that we didn't just get married because it was part of some fuckin' plan that Jax came up with -"

"We didn't! Juice," Denise said pleadingly - but he was so infuriated now that talking to him sensibly was impossible, even for Denise, who had somehow always found a way before. Even worse, beneath all of the fury was another emotion - fear. And when Juice Ortiz was afraid, he made decisions the he and everyone around him was bound to regret. "Juice, I thought we were in this together -"

"So did I - but apparently, I'm in this with you, and you're in this with Jax," he said. Before Denise could even say anything in protest, he stormed inside and slammed the door, leaving Denise in utter disbelief on the porch.

Unable to figure out how she was meant to handle all of this, how to keep all of these balls in the air, she stayed outside - she sat on the porch railing until it was dark out and all the lights inside had gone off. When Denise finally went back inside and went to the bedroom, she found that Juice had already fallen asleep. Rather than waking him, she laid down on her side of the bed, not even crawling under the covers next to him.

She woke alone the next morning - Juice had already left for Sacramento with Chibs without waking her to say goodbye, and Denise had a sinking sensation that Juice would find a way to stay away from Charming, even without her. And now, she wasn't sure if she could blame him.

* * *

><p>"Juicy, what the hell are you lettin' me see this for? You know I'm fuckin' the Sheriff, don't you?"<p>

That was the only reaction Chibs had in response to what Juice was showing him. They had gone up to Sacramento without incident, and though Chibs would hardly ever have admitted it, it was a welcome relief to ride side by side with the younger man again. However, when Juice insisted upon a detour that took them across the California-Nevada state line, Chibs grew increasingly wary, leading up to the moment that Juice brought him to a cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, opening the door to reveal Gemma Teller-Morrow sitting inside.

"You want me to hide this from Jax and the Alth- the Sheriff?" Chibs asked incredulously. "Juicyboy, are you ever going to stop fucking yourself over?"

"I think your sex life will be fine, Chibby," Gemma smirked snidely. "How've you been?"

Chibs didn't acknowledge the greeting, instead staring at Juice in exasperation. Knowing what Gemma had done, and that she was taking refuge here of all places, caused him to curse a few more times under his breath, looking back and forth between the floor and Gemma as though he thought she would disappear like an unwanted illusion.

"I'm staying here for a while," Juice said, crossing his arms resolutely. "I don't know how long."

"Are fuckin' serious?" Chibs said, narrowing his eyes. "Juicy, I don't want to have to knock the sense back into ye, but -"

"I'll come back," Juice said, though his tone was far from convincing. "I just -"

"You're leaving your wife hanging. Now," Chibs said, shaking his head. "Of all times? She just committed murder for the club and now you're walkin' out on the lass for not wantin' to leave? Jax could ruin her if he wanted - she could lose her life if she followed you and all you care about is that you want to run. Are ye that much of a -"

"Coward? Yeah, I am," Juice said, shrugging as though the accusation didn't bother him, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Chibs grimaced and shook his head - Juice had such a way of choosing the wrong things.

"Did ye forget, I was the one who picked you both up off the fckin' streets in Stockton?" Chibs asked, shaking his head and placing his hands on Juice's shoulders, resisting the urge to shake him until his brains leaked out of his ears. "The girl was fuckin' terrified, boy, but she never hesitated to come to Charming, not even for a second, because it was where you'd be safe. Everything that lass has done has been for you -"

"I told her, we needed to get the hell out of Charming -"

"And she said no, so you're leaving without her and hiding with this murdering bitch," Chibs said, nodding over at Gemma, who remained silent for lack of anything to say in protest - she knew how much distaste they all had for her at this point. Chibs reached into his pocket and pulled out the burner he had tucked away and shoved it into Juice's hands. "You call the girl, you set things straight and come the fuck back to Charming -"

"No."

"Juice - boy, you listen to me. That girl you left back in Charming is your wife -"

"And I'm her husband," Juice retorted. "And she told me, anywhere I am, that's where she belongs. That's where she'd go. Well, I'm here, and she isn't -"

"You suit yourself, boy," Chibs said, throwing his hands up in resignation and taking a few backwards steps towards his bike. "But if you show your face back in Charming and she refuses to vouch for you again when Jax calls you out for this shit, you don't come crying to me."

"Don't say anything about Gemma being here -"

"I won't," Chibs snapped, getting back on his bike. "Because an angry Jax only puts your wife in more danger, and you're clearly not interested in looking out for her. Coward."

He knew Chibs was right, of course. He knew that Jax was more than capable, more than willing to force Denise to run the gauntlet - he had put her up to murder already. But that should have been reason enough for her to simply call it quits - it should have been enough to make her want to call it quits too, and instead, she decided to stay. Juice felt himself shaking in fury as Chibs drove off, and he watched the older man's silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the distance until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Gemma standing behind him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"So now you tell me," she said knowingly. "What the fuck are you doing here instead of in Charming with your wife?"

"I want out. I want to leave all the bullshit with the Triads and Marks and all of them behind," he said blankly. "She doesn't."

Gemma crossed her arms and paced a few steps back and forth in front of Juice before cocking her head to one side and eyeing him carefully. "I can tell you, I am a _fucked up_ human being," Gemma began, raising her eyebrows and pausing. "But of all the fucked up things I've done, choosing safety over the people who mean the world to me isn't one that I've ever been able to do without it eating me alive. Completely destroyin' me."

She walked over and placed a hand on Juice's shoulder, and he glanced up at her, his eyes child-like and questioning. "Far be it from me to kick you out of your wife's place," she said with a dry chuckle, glancing around at the cabin - truth be told, even being alone up here was a better situation than she knew she deserved. "Stay and clear your head, but once the dust settles, you turn around and go back to your wife. You go back to Charming because that's where there's work to be done. You don't run and hide -"

"Or I end up like Tara?" Juice snapped back, his expression hardening. Gemma, however, sighed and shook her head.

"No," she said, suddenly looking much more like the motherly figure she had once been to him - to all of the club. "You end up like _me_. You end up alone because all you did was think about _you._"

* * *

><p>Two days had passed.<p>

It had been two days since Chibs had come back alone and informed them that Juice was spending time away to clear his head - Denise knew where he would be, and who he would be there with. All that in mind, the past two days had been an accumulation of suspicion that Juice had no intention of coming back.

It was a Saturday evening and Denise was home alone with Abel and Thomas while the club was out on a run - Abel, noticing that Denise seemed unlike herself, tried valiantly to cheer his Aunt Deedee up, but though she put up a brave front for the boys' sake, it was all for show.

When Jax arrived back at the house, the boys had already fallen asleep, and Denise was sitting on the sofa, holding a mug of coffee but not drinking it - the lack of steam indicated that she had simply been holding it, and it had since gone cold. Jax felt a pang of something that, at this point, seemed unfamiliar: guilt. He had wrecked her. He huffed, sitting down on the nearest armchair and leaning his elbows onto his knees.

"You know where he is?" Jax asked. Denise's expression stiffened. She had watched the boys and never let on to either of them that she was furious at their dad, but once the boys were in bed, the cold, withdrawn look on Denise's face spoke volumes - Jax knew that she had genuinely extended her friendship to him, and he'd betrayed her. He was doing everything he hated, _becoming_ everything he hated.

"Yeah," she answered stiffly. "I have a pretty good idea."

She knew, Jax realized, and still wasn't leaving. Denise was too good to her word to walk out on their deal, and he had been able to read that from her from the beginning. She didn't take lightly the fact that she had made a deal - and Jax felt his breath catch in his throat at the realization that she _loved_ Juice Ortiz, idiot or not, so much that she was willing to lose him in order to uphold the deal she'd made to save his life. She was handing herself over to _him_, like he was some kind of dark master to whom lives had to be sacrificed. That had never been what he wanted.

Jax was willing to go to unspeakable lengths to do the job he'd set out to do, but he wasn't a man without some sense of principle - some sense of honor. He knew his sons loved this girl because she filled a hole in their lives that Tara had left behind, that she had been _good_ for them. She'd done them all some good, and he owed her the same. As a _friend_.

"You know, Tara wanted out too," he said in a strangely tight voice. "And I played hardball. Played it for years, said there was still shit to do here. Charming came first. The club came first. But you and Juice aren't in the club, Dee. And you've given up enough - you're a kid."

"What are you trying to say?" Denise asked weakly, her brow furrowing despite the fact that she didn't look up from her mug of lukewarm coffee. Jax groaned, clasping his hands in front of his face and letting out a slow breath.

"Take the car. Go after him and leave Charming in your rearview mirror, Dee," he said, his jaw tight. "You're not me, and you shouldn't turn into somebody like me if you've still got somethin' left. We'll clean up this mess with Marks and the Triads."

"But… the picture?" Denise stammered weakly. "And Alvarez -"

"I'll get it back. We'll cover you, let you two get the hell away," Jax said. "You've held up your end of the deal. Get out of here."

Jax got back to his feet and nudged the coffee table out of the way with his leg. He reached over and pulled the mug out of Denise's hands, placing it down before pulling her by the crook of her arm to her feet. He was taken by surprise when, out of nowhere, she broke her silence, let out a small sob, and reached out to hug him, sniffling quietly. He froze momentarily, his arms stiff at his sides before chuckling rigidly.

"Fuck. Dee, are you crying?" he said, finally loosening up slightly and squeezing her shoulders with one arm. "You and Juice really are soulmates."

"Thank you," she said quietly, pulling back and wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "You have no idea -"

"Quit bein' such a sap and go get that husband of yours before he gets into more trouble," Jax smirked, nodding towards the door. Denise smiled weakly.

It was nearly an hour later that Jax realized, as he watched his boys sleep, that he was completely on his own with them now. No more lifelines. He could call Wendy. He could call Lyla. But at the end of the day, he had just sent away the only consistent mother-like figure his boys had been able to count on for a long time. Now, he was alone with them here - in Juice and Denise's house. He didn't even have a real home to provide them at this point.

Jax leaned over and kissed both of his boys on the temple before the sound of fervent knocking on the door nearly startled them awake. He leapt to his feet and went out to the front door, throwing it open with every intention of giving someone hell until he realized that Chibs and Tig were at the door. Jax's jaw clenched - he'd put the two of them on night patrol on the surrounding highways, as he always did at night to make sure no one came into town to stir up trouble since the night of the fire.

"Picked off two Triads on 99 North," Tig said, shaking his head. "Had to make sure -"

"99 North? Jesus Christ," Jax interrupted, swiping his hand over his face in frustration. "Fuck."

"Jackie?" Chibs asked. He glanced into the house over Jax's shoulder and inhaled sharply through his nostrils, anticipating the answer already. "Where's Deedee?"

"I sent her after Juice, told her to get outta here. She was probably on the 99 too - mighta gone right past you while you were cleanin' up your mess," he said, shaking his head and feeling himself grow sick at the idea that he had possibly sent Denise straight into danger. He'd meant well - he had good intentions, _for once_. "Call Wendy, have her come here and watch the boys - wake everybody up, we're goin' after her."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And unfortunately, we have to wait until the next update to find out what has become of Denise. I ultimately decided to leave this chapter all in one piece rather than split it up, so I hope you guys enjoyed the longer update!_

_"Faith and Despondency" was a really hard episode for me to watch, right off the bat. (No big spoilers, but if you've seen it, you'll likely understand why) - so this story is a little bit like my refuge from the fact that this season has been a little bit overwhelming and gratuitous so far._

_Thank you to **Love Ink** for giving me review #100! I'm super excited that you guys have welcomed me into the fandom with open arms, even though I only came onto the scene during the final season. I wanted to run by everyone the idea of me posting one of the other SOA plot bunnies that I've been writing (mostly as a break when I have writer's block from this one). Different pairing, but still a story with an OC. It wouldn't go up until I've gotten into the groove of posting the sequel to this story, but just a heads up that it's a possibility._

_And again, thank you to **happyfan3928** who has been diligently review chapters in bulk - once you get to this chapter, I hope you see this!_

_In the next chapter, Juice receives some big news on top of finding out what's happened to Denise, and it means big changes. I'll leave you to ponder what those changes might be! Until the next update, cheers!_


	34. Chapter 34

"Mr. Kwan, we can't -"

"They will _find_ her, and when they do, they'll receive the message," Charles snapped coldly to his driver as they drove away from the scene in his backed out sedan he had received from his new business associate - the pants of his suit were still cleanly pressed, but his shirt had the sleeves rolled up and was no longer crisp thanks to his heavy perspiration.

The events of recent days seemed all too sudden - that Uncle Henry had disappeared after leaving for his meeting with Marcus Alvarez, and now, Alvarez had lost interest in their deal.

He had only wanted answers from her - he hadn't planned on hurting her. Charles Kwan had meant to rain torture down on whoever his sister implicated in their Uncle's disappearance - but she wouldn't speak. In Charles' desperation, he had struck her, had struck her again. He had made sure she was tied, because he was well aware that she knew how to fight back. He didn't give her the chance...

And then, she had said it.

She had killed him. His younger sister, who had always followed him, had always obeyed him, spat the confession out with such defiance that he thought he would lose his mind - because she did not realize what she had just done to _him_. Charles had no desire to lead the Triads. To gain favor from them, yes, but never to stand at the helm. Now, he had no choice. It was either take the lead or be killed, and it was because of her.

He didn't realize what he had done to his own sister until after it was done - didn't realize he had himself given the order to leave the characters of their family name burned into her skin as a reminder of who she was. Now, because it was done, it did not do to dwell on it any longer.

But the image lingered in his mind - the way she refused to scream, the way she clenched her teeth and simply writhed in agony in the dirt on the side of the road until she finally lost consciousness. The fact that his baby sister was strong was terrifying - because strong was something that Charles Kwan was not, and that was why for all of their lives, even since they were children, he had always striven to keep her on the same side as himself.

Now, that was gone. That time was dead. Charles knew Denise, and because of that he feared her - and a small part of him, the part that now ached with guilt, knowing that this was his younger sister, the one person who had always protected him, defended him, believed in him, feared _for_ her. This small part of him continually jabbed the possibility of leaving her alone, of forgetting the money, but Charles Kwan was, if nothing else, a master of surviving. And now, left to his own devices at the helm of a criminal syndicate in the middle of the biggest deal it had ever been presented with, their father and grandfather's money was they key to his survival.

August Marks would not keep him alive if he had nothing to offer.

* * *

><p>"Where the fuck is my wife, Jax?"<p>

Juice stormed in through the sliding doors of the emergency room, catching sight of Jax Teller immediately and shoving him backwards. Juice had been laying low at the cabin when the burner Chibs had left with him rang - Chibs had then gone on to let him know what had happened. After it had already happened. He had walked out on her because he got spooked by Jax Teller, and now she was in the hospital. The entire drive back to Charming, Juice had every intention of laying the blame for this at the feet of Jax Teller, but felt the unpleasant sensation of guilt gnawing at his own insides as well.

"We found her on the side of the road," Jax said, firmly prying Juice's hands off of his collar and pushing the other man away. "We chased down the Triads that left her there -"

"What the fuck did they -"

"They weren't trying to kill her, she doesn't have the money yet," Jax said in a hushed voice, dragging Juice over to the slightly dingy smaller waiting room where the rest of the club was waiting. Everyone else had left them alone, as they often did - most people in Charming deferred to SAMCRO. Juice's eyes scanned the surroundings frantically before he managed to take a breath, crossing his arms over himself.

"What was she doing out there alone? What did you make her do?" Juice asked, frowning. "Jax -"

"I sent her after you. I told her to get the hell out of Charming and never look back," he said. "Her brother must have people posted outside of town in case -"

"Why?" Juice interrupted. "Why did you let her go?"

"Because neither of you owe me shit anymore. We're more than even. She did what she promised and for once, I was tryin' to keep my fuckin' word to someone who's been good to my boys," Jax hissed, and the lines on his face deepened considerably. "They weren't trying to kill her, but they left her there - they beat her up, ripped the engine out of the car, and left her with a message."

Jax reached for something tucked into an inside pocket on his kutte, holding the piece of paper out to Juice, who unfolded it and read it with gritted teeth.

_We will have what is ours._

The note was signed with the Chinese characters that translated into Lin, which they recognized from their once extensive dealings with the Triads. Juice crumpled the paper and threw it aside, shaking his head.

"They branded it into her side," Jax said, his expression blank and his voice tight. "Real bad burn - looks like a soldering iron. She's knocked out real good for now, but when she wakes up, don't let her see it yet -"

"Where is she?" Juice asked, his face contorted in rage - and guilt.

"Just got moved to a room upstairs," Jax said, shaking his head. "When they let her out, do whatever you guys were planning. Get her out of Charming -"

"No," Juice said, shaking his head both to respond to Jax's suggestion and to futilely try to dispel the pressure of tears welling up behind his eyes. "Fuck. She wanted to stay. She wanted to make sure this was all cleared up and I left her. I fuckin' left her," Juice said through gritted teeth. "Jax - man, fuck. I know she and I don't have what - what you had with... with..."

Juice found that he couldn't even say Tara's name, especially not now when their stories were becoming far too parallel. He inhaled sharply and finally managed to square his shoulders, drawing himself up to meet Jax's gaze fully and bravely for the first time in a long time.

"She wanted to stay and we're staying. I shouldn't have left her - but this happened, and there's no undoing it," he said, sounding truly strong, something that none of the men in the room had heard for a long time. None of them, not even Chibs, was able to help but let on at least a small amount of astonishment. "Her brother and Marks need to catch the blowback for this."

"If you tap in, you know you're walkin' into a war with us," Jax said coolly.

"I don't give a fuck what I'm gettin' into, they tried to kill my wife - she's all I got, Jax," he said, shaking his head miserably. "I'm not in this for any of you -"

"So you're gonna chase 'em down alone? Who you takin' down first? The Triads? Marks?" Jax insisted, coming close to Juice's face and practically spitting with rage and challenge. "Because, fuck, man - if you can take care of those motherfuckers on your own, by all means, make our lives easier. But if you can't, then… we've got your back."

Juice remained silent, and Jax straightened up, smoothing out the front of his shirt. His point was made. He looked back over his shoulder and nodded for Chibs to approach. Juice's eyes widened uncontrollably when he noticed that the older man had something tucked away next to him that he picked up and handed to Jax, who in turn held it out to Juice. He raised his fist to cover his mouth in disbelief when he realized that Jax was handing him his kutte.

"Took it to a vote once they got Denise checked in upstairs - waiting room ain't chapel but it'll do," he said evenly. "Help us protect your wife? Brother?"

Juice was silent, still covering his mouth. Denise was going to be pissed. He was going to look like the biggest hypocrite on God's green Earth, but hell if this wasn't all he'd ever wanted. And she had, in a strange way, made it happen for him.

"Jesus Christ, are you fuckin' cryin' again?" Jax said with a shadow of a smirk, pushing the kutte in Juice's direction, and he no longer hesitated this time, reaching out and pulling it on over his hoodie, shrugging it back into place. "If we get this cleaned up and you wanna take your wife and hightail it out of Charming, then you can do it with my blessing. Do what Tara and I couldn't do," Jax said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No strings. Nothing. If we take down Marks, that's it. That's the end."

Juice inhaled deeply, looking down at himself, then back around the others in the room - the men who were once again his brothers. None of them stared at him with disdain anymore, and it finally hit Juice that they all must have voted him back in. Every single one of them.

"Alright, feelings time is officially over - get outta here," Jax said, nodding towards the elevator. "Dee's probably settled in up on the third floor now. She needs you more than we do right now, you crybaby sap."

Juice was practically shaking with gratitude, and he nearly stumbled as he turned for the elevator to head upstairs. Jax, on the other hand, slumped into one of the waiting room chairs, next to Bobby.

"The Triads, and Marks - maybe the Triads too, dependin' where the wind blows," Bobby said while Jax rubbed his face wearily. "SAMCRO's never been this vulnerable - they're comin' at us from all sides this time," he pointed out. "We're in the middle of a war. We're gettin' into big money - this isn't what your old man wanted. It was supposed to be us, enforcing our own code - our own _rules_. He wouldn't have wanted us to get into their game -"

"He would've wanted to protect Charming," Jax answered defiantly. "Charming was always SAMCRO's town. My father's town. Without us, Marks can do whatever the fuck he wants with it -"

"He can step right over us and do it anyway," Bobby interrupted. "What happens after? Best case scenario. We declare war on Marks, the Triads, whoever else they've bought out. We win. Then what?"

"Then..." Jax said, shaking his head and allowing his voice to trail off wearily. "After we've saved Charming, we see if SAMCRO's still got a place in it."

* * *

><p>Juice made his way down the creepily sterile smelling tiled hallway to where the nurse said he'd find his wife. He arrived at the door to room 2701 and slumped mournfully when he saw the figure in the bed closest to the door, lying on their side and facing away.<p>

"Baby?"

There was a quiet gasp, and Juice began walking around to the other side - Denise turned her head slowly, unable to roll onto her other side, which was covered in bandages. Her face was set with slight lines in her forehead, and Juice could tell she was in pain - since she was awake, her pain meds were probably wearing off. He glanced her over and felt his stomach tighten when he saw her swollen lip, the bruises on her face, the marks on her wrist.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly.

"Baby," he repeated weakly, kneeling next to the bed when he was unable to find a chair to sit on and clasping her hand tightly. "I shouldn't have left you here. I fucked up, baby - I got spooked."

Denise looked away, and Juice gave her hand a slight shake.

"Say something. Babe -"

"What am I supposed to tell you?" she asked, letting out a heavy breath that heaved her chest. She winced when the motion disturbed her bandaged sides. Juice moved to help her, but she extended her hand to stop him.

"You think I'm a fuck up too," he said, shaking his head. "You hate me -"

"What are you wearing?" Denise asked, her eyes finally trained on her husband and able to take in the sight of him in his kutte. Juice looked down in apparent shame, and Denise gave a tiny, humorless chuckle. "After you walk out on me for refusing to leave because you wanted out of Charming, because you said it wasn't safe here, Jax dangles that in front of you and suddenly, you're singing a different tune," she said, shaking her head and looking away from him. "Are you kidding me? This had to happen to me first -"

"I made a mistake," Juice said desperately. "And - babe, this is what I need to do to make it right."

"It's not all on him, Dee," came Jax's voice from the doorway. Denise froze, and her jaw tightened slightly as he came around to stand in front of her as well, knowing she couldn't turn to face him. "I sent you off alone. I didn't think about what could happen when I sent you out there - don't put this all on him. But this is gonna get messy. It's gonna get bloody and I need you both. Alright?"

Denise exhaled deeply and glanced back and forth between Jax and Juice a few times before nodding.

"Fine."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_So - Juice has won back the favor of his brothers, but taken a hit in Denise's book. Just a reminder that we're drawing close to the end of this story, and closer to the sequel - and since there's a sequel, be ready for things here to leave a lot of problems and loose ends._

_Thank you again to all of my awesome readers and reviewers! And also to my guest reviewer who left a less than raving review, I appreciate you too. I hope you at least stick around and give the sequel a chance!_

_The next chapter is going to be a mish-mosh of things in the wake of Denise's accident and how Juice rejoining SAMCRO affects their relationship. No huge events, but for those who enjoy a little more of the romantic and steamy stuff, there'll be a little somethin'-somethin' to tide you over for a while too. Those scenes aren't my specialty, so go easy on me next chapter!_

_As promised in an earlier author's note, I also wanted to reveal some more of my Juice/Denise playlist. For this chapter in particular, I wrote their hospital conversation (as well as some of the previous chapter) to "Words Fail You" by Kris Delmhorst. So, I'll leave you on that note until next time! Cheers!_


	35. Chapter 35

Denise's twenty-fifth birthday came and went without incident - in fact, it came and went without her even once leaving the bedroom. While her injuries were nowhere near grave enough to warrant a long stay in the hospital, they were more than sufficient in turning her into a person Juice could hardly recognize. In the days since she'd been home, Juice found that she'd hardly been willing to talk to him about what she wanted to eat, let alone what had happened to her along the highway at the hands of her brother and his guys.

Denise was losing weight - she was getting thin, her hair was growing dull, and her face was beginning to show signs of her extreme wariness, no matter what Juice tried to do. She would accept no reassurance from him - she was still pissed at him, and he knew she had every reason to be.

It was only now that Juice fully felt the burden of the truth - that in a matter of a few months, Denise had been dragged through so much with him, made such a large commitment to him, and never once put thought into whether or not she could handle it. She simply jumped in head first - and now, Juice worried that the weight on her shoulders of being _his_ wife, of being an ally to the club, of being an almost-mother to Jax's boys, to being a traitor to the family that Denise's own father still had hoped until his death that she could save was more than she could bear.

It _had_ been. Juice had known that she was feeling crushed underneath such a weight, and instead of taking the burden from her, he had run away from her. If she was angry with him, Juice accepted that she had every right to it. She didn't want to be touched, and Juice accepted it. She didn't want to be comforted, and Juice accepted it.

So, he instead busied himself with all that came along with having his kutte returned to him. He did put aside time, however, to make an important phonecall to someone that he thought Denise might actually talk to.

The fact that her phone rang surprised Denise while she sat at home alone one day, and she grimaced at the sight of an unfamiliar number before answering.

"Hello?"

"I hear you've been pretty shitty, babydoll."

Denise fell silent for a few torturous moments at the sound of Gemma's voice, knowing that she would only call if she knew about what had happened, and she would only know if someone had told her. Juice had _asked _her to call.

"I think that's the Sparknotes version of it, yeah."

"Baby, what happened to you?" Gemma asked soothingly, and the strange, comforting lilt to the woman's voice nearly made Denise's skin prickle, because it was almost foreign to her. Sure, everyone had tried to make her feel better, to cheer her up, but the strange, hypnotically maternal quality that Gemma had taken on towards her seemed to finally overcome her already failing resistance to what she was feeling.

"They branded me," Denise said, attempting to conceal the fact that her voice quavered, barely restraining tears. "They branded me like a fuckin' cow - how am I -"

"Shit. Baby," Gemma said, and the sound of her voice continued to lull Denise into a sense of calm - not happiness by any means, but an almost drowsy state of forgetfulness of what was true. "You don't let the boys see you like this, do you?"

"No," Denise said quietly. "I - I don't really let them see me at all." Now, it was Gemma's turn to go quiet. She let out an audible sigh. "Is this worth it?" Denise asked finally, allowing the weariness and pain to finally begin leaking into her tone. "These past few days, I've wanted to just call it quits. What if I just gave up the money and -"

"Your husband got his kutte back. He's back in," Gemma interrupted firmly. "That makes you an ol' lady now, and you need to shoulder that, baby - you need to be tougher than this."

"My own brother called this down on me and I haven't lost it yet," Denise said shakily. "I don't know how much tougher I'm supposed to get. Maybe everybody's right, maybe I'm just a poor little rich girl in over my head -"

"Fuck that, and fuck anyone who says that," Gemma interrupted. "I'm a selfish bitch, Deedee, and I am selfishly going to ask you to be the Deedee that I know. I want you to be the Deedee who was ballsy enough to call me and ask for a ride into Charming when she had no idea what to expect. I want you to be the Deedee who had a Beretta hiding two inches from her goddamn cooch in her wedding dress. You're part of this family now, babygirl. Officially. And if I can't be there for Jax and the boys, I need to make sure there's a hard-ass bitch there to hold down the fort while I'm gone."

"Gemma, I can't -"

"Those boys need a woman to be the brains of the operation," she said with a slight chuckle. "They need someone who can keep their eye on the big picture when they're too caught up in their own shit. You need to _be_ that woman. You need to be that ol' lady."

Denise sniffed quietly and processed everything without saying a word for nearly a full minute - Gemma cleared her throat and had to ask if she was still there before she replied.

"I'll try."

* * *

><p>Ever since Denise had gotten out of the hospital, Jax had decided that the younger woman had clearly been through enough and couldn't be tasked to watch his kids - so instead, he had been leaving the boys with Lyla. Wendy had attempted to volunteer, but Jax had refused her help on the grounds that if he let her back into his life one too many times, she might refuse to get out.<p>

Lyla was surprised, then, when Denise's car pulled up in front of her house and the younger woman stepped out, while Lyla was watching the kids play in the front yard - Ellie, in particular, had recently decided she wanted to be a teacher, and as such, had started seeking out Abel and Tommy to spend time with.

"Looks like you're running a daycare here nowadays, Ly," Denise said, cocking her head to one side.

"You look good, honey," Lyla smirked, giving Denise a glance over. Her hair was clean, blown out with hair spray and held out of her face by a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. She was wearing a tight pair of black jeans, black boots that looked like they must have come out of Gemma's closet, and a loose, stringy white tanktop over a black bandeau. She would have looked particularly good, if not for the distracting fact that the burn marks on her side peered out, livid on her pale skin.

"Aunt Deedee!" Abel said, running over and standing at her side, staring at the bright red marks - Denise hardly felt pain from them at this point, but she was well aware that appearance-wise, they were far from healed. "Did those come from the bad guys?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they did," Denise nodded, shifting and allowing Abel to look at whatever was visible. "I just barely got away -"

"Like a ninja?" Abel asked, astounded. "That's so cool!"

"Since you're all dressed up, you should go to the thing I'm throwing tonight - over at the Hairy Dog," Lyla called out. "It'll be fun - the boys are all gonna be there. Give you a chance to talk to your ol' man."

Denise paused and raised her eyebrows gently, but shrugged. She'd need to face him eventually, after all. She'd need to talk to him - she'd avoided it valiantly for days, even when they slept in the same room, in the same bed, but she knew it couldn't keep going forever.

"Sounds fun," Denise nodded, crossing her arms. "I'll swing by."

Denise was trying, in her own strange way, to follow Gemma's advice - to adapt and be the person that everyone needed her to be, since it was unlikely she would be getting out anytime soon. She was trying with every ounce of spunk she could muster to figure out what an _ol' lady_ was supposed to be.

She had to admit, the painkillers helped a little bit.

She wondered, however, what the hell she was getting herself into when she arrived at the Hairy Dog that evening. Lyla, who had been able to convince Ellie and Kenny to be babysitters for the evening, immediately ran to greet her at the door, her voice already slurring slightly.

"You had me scared, honey!" she lilted, slinging an arm over the smaller, dark-haired woman. "I thought you were gonna stand us all up!" Denise simply laughed, shaking her head.

"Looks like the night away from being the supermom is treating you pretty well," she smirked. "Have you seen -"

But Denise's question didn't requiring answering from Lyla, as her eyes drifted to one spot in particular at the bar where Juice was sitting, and two or three girls already seemed to be doting on him.

"Fuck - honey, don't even pay attention to that mess. Croweaters," Lyla said, dismissively. "They latch onto anything in a kutte, and your ol' man's been out of circulation, so he's fresh meat to them - but he's been a good boy. I've been watchin'. C'mon - you need a drink."

Denise settled for a beer on tap, taking a long, indulgent drink before heading over and plunking her mug down, right behind Juice.

"Do you mind?" One of the girls in front of him asked, just as he was turning around - his eyes went wide with surprise upon seeing his wife actually out of the house, let alone at a party. "We were talking to Juicy first, so you can -"

The fake redhead, however, shut up incredibly fast when Denise raised her hand, briefly flashing her wedding ring with a smirk. "I can talk to my husband without your hoochie ass perfume stinking up my oxygen? Thanks, doll. I appreciate it."

The girls rolled their eyes in disdain and walked away - there were always more Sons to entertain themselves with. Denise, on the other hand, looked over Juice in his kutte, then at the beer in his hand as well, clinking her own against his gently.

"I was going to offer you a beer, but it looks like those croweaters have been taking good care of you," Denise said, raising an eyebrow gently. Juice looked pained at the way she used the word 'croweater' with such ease, as though it was a word she'd always been familiar with. He hadn't wanted her to change - he hadn't really wanted her to become an old lady.

"Dee, baby," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "You shouldn't be drinkin', you're still taking the pain pills -"

"I only took half tonight, I think I earned a fucking beer after everything I've been through, okay?" she snapped smoothly. Juice, however, frowned and reached over and attempted to take the beer from his wife's hand. She resisted, and the subsequent tug-of-war ended with the glass on the floor and the beer all over both of their shirts. Denise leapt back in annoyance, throwing her arms out in exasperation.

"I can take care of myself!" she said angrily. "You don't need to - Juice, put me the fuck down!"

Before she could really get the momentum of her rant started, Juice had hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman carry and brought her outside through the back door,ignoring the stares of everyone else in the bar and kicking the door shut behind him before putting her down.

"You don't need to do this!" he said loudly, gesturing at Denise - at her appearance, her clothes. Even the way she was talking didn't seem like her. He wouldn't deny that she looked good - better than she had in days, definitely - but it didn't look like her. It didn't _feel_ like her. "You don't need to _be_ this, baby. This isn't forever - we finish this one job -"

"One job that we don't even know if we're gonna live through!" Denise interrupted, running her hands through her hair. "Juice, I told you, I would stand by you, whatever you decided on - I told you I was down for whatever. And what did you do to pay me back? You left me. You fucking left me so this could happen!" she said, gesturing at the red marks on her side. "Do you even fucking remember why you left? 'I'm in this with you and you're in this with Jax" - do you remember that?" Denise yelled shrilly. "That was the last thing you said to me, and I held onto that - and I was going to say sorry, because you were right. We were getting too close to Jax and to SAMCRO. I went _looking_ for you - I went _chasing_ after you like a stupid little puppy. And then you go and do this?"

Denise voice cracked as she restrained a sob through the last question, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Juice's kutte and giving him as hard of a shove as she could manage. "Fuck you, Juice," she said tearfully, wiping at her eyes so that a small swipe of her eyeliner came off on her arm. "Fuck you."

She turned and took a few steps, apparently to leave the party altogether, before Juice caught her by the arm and pulled her back, his eyes embroiled with both fury and misery at their current situation. "Don't walk away from me," he snapped, hard lines set in his face as he stared over his wife. "I got scared - I was scared shitless, and I fucked up because that's what I do. I fuck up. All I do all the goddamn time is fuck up," he ranted furiously. "But I came back because I want to make the cocksuckers that did this to you - to both of us - pay for it, and I can't do that alone. I need SAMCRO. Baby, you're my wife -"

"And you're my husband. You still left me," Denise said tearfully. "You still walked."

Juice fell silent, and his face contorted - but this time, not because he was going to cry, but because he was so disgusted with himself, he didn't even know how to start trying to save face. He shook his head and gave a weird, choked laugh before dropping onto his knees, taking both of Denise's hands in his and looking up at her.

"Juice, get the hell up," Denise said, looking away from him and trying in vain to pull her hands away. He gripped them tightly and gave a slight pull, urging her to look at him. "Don't do that -"

"Say you're not gonna leave me and then I'll get up."

"You're being fucking juvenile right now," Denise said stiffly, still attempting to squirm out from his hold, starting to ramble nervously. "Juice, let go - don't just wear me down like that, like you don't know you're getting to me - we're _talking _like adults right now, so stop -"

"Are you gonna stay with me?" Juice insisted, squeezing her hands and giving them a small, pleading shake. Denise's jaw clenched, and her nostrils flared slightly as she let out a long, forceful breath before she could manage to actually meet Juice's gaze.

"Of course I'm staying with you, you idiot," she said weakly, shaking her head - but she couldn't begrudge a small, lopsided grin from tilting one side of her lips when an enormous smile broke out onto Juice's face. He leapt to his feet and swept her up into his arms, spinning her once before placing her back down on the ground and kissing her.

That fact of the matter was, however, that this was the first time they had kissed in days - nearly a week, even - and the instant their mouths connected, it was like an avalanche of frustration and emotion had been unleashed. Within seconds, Denise was against the wall with her legs around Juice's waist - she was so petite that he seemed to favor being in this position. His teeth lowered to graze her neck, but he froze for a moment when he felt her reach down with one hand and deftly undo his belt buckle.

"In the alley behind a bar, baby?" Juice asked, his voice tight because her hand had already made their way into his jeans and was slowly moving along his length. She smirked devilishly when he let out a small groan, leaning more of his weight into pressing her against the wall as his legs felt slightly weak beneath him. The flimsy fabric of her black leggings slid easily down her thin legs with one pull of his hand, even despite his own protests.

"Is that a no?" she purred into his ear, her voice slightly hoarse and huskier thanks to the mixed buzz from the beer and the painkillers. "Are you telling me..." she released her hold on his throbbing bulge and instead shifted so she could grind her hips hard against his, nipping at the skin behind his ear. "...that you don't wanna fuck me right now?"

Juice let out another moan. He didn't want it to happen here outside of a bar when she was drunk like this."We should go home, baby -"

"But baby," she purred, batting her eyelashes with a feigned pout. "_I want you now_."

And that broke his resolve to be chivalrous as he finally allowed his jeans to fall to the floor, shifting so he was perfectly angled to enter her and let her warmth envelop him. Both let out a moan at the same time, and Juice grinned at the sensation of her fingernails raking over his skin.

Meanwhile, Bobby closed the back door behind him quickly, his eyebrows raised as he looked back into the bar - Jax had sent him to make sure that Juice and Denise were alright, and he laughed throatily.

"The lovebirds are definitely making up back there - I wouldn't bother 'em if I were you."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_A semi-light chapter, nothing huge happening - and a little bit of much-needed Juice/Denise time. There are only 3 or 4 more chapters left in this installment of the series depending on how I divide everything up (I've already written about 5 chapters into the sequel, though, so fear not! I won't leave you hanging!) so the hits are going to come one after the other for the next few chapters._

_Anyway, like I said - the sequel is in the works, and I'm in the process of writing up chapters. I have a basic storyline decided, but there's still some flexibility in where things go in the middle. Some parts of season 7, if you're up to date on the series, may work their way into the story, though the events will come about in a very different way. But if you have any specific ideas and suggestions, I always am open to ideas for things to include that would make the story better! The sequel is going to open up a little bit and start diving into subplots with other characters, so Juice and Denise won't always be front and center._

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I also wanted to put a call out there, if any of my readers wanted to send me song suggestions to add to my playlist and fuel my writing muse! I found that I've been a little slower lately, so if you have any music recommendations that you use for writing, or that popped into your head while reading, please send them my way! I'm doing my best not to lose steam!_

_On a real-life note, I'm in for another busy week at work, so I'm hoping to be able to provide chapter 36 for you by Wednesday, but no promises yet! Just keep an eye out! Until then, cheers!_


	36. Chapter 36

The first lesson in How To Be an Old Lady 101 was to realize when things were none of your business - and while many might have passed this test with flying colors, Denise found that it was the hardest lesson to learn. It was difficult to consider anything 'not her business' when it revolved around her family, her life, her future. How did any of these women ever keep it together?

Being with a Son, as it turned out, was a bigger change than Denise had ever expected. Since she was now rightly and properly an old lady, she found that there were more people around to help her - more croweaters nipping at her heels wanting to suddenly be her best friend and offering to take her shopping or out for drinks, looking for an in. Denise didn't want to make friends. She was still coming to terms with the fact that being an ol' lady wasn't a costume. It wasn't something you could just dress up as and hope people believed you for a night.

Denise found that the hardest part of being an ol' lady was the idea of _belonging_ to someone - she had always felt like she belonged to someone other than herself. Maybe for a moment, she thought that coming to Charming and leaving her family was a way of getting away from that kind of existing, but that belief had been very short-lived indeed.

She found herself practically gnashing her teeth at the thought of Juice being in chapel with the other guys, knowing that at any point, they could be sitting around discussing what to do with her money, what to do to her brother. She was the key informant - the only informant at this point - and she was being left out.

"That's the way it should be. Club business is messy, let 'em handle that shit," Lyla pointed out one morning when, out of boredom, Denise had stopped by to see her - she was in the middle of producing a film, and all that entailed - she had become somewhat of a whiz at every aspect of her business - so she spent most of the conversation holding a prop dildo that was going to be needed for the next scene. Denise couldn't help but stare at it with a disgusted expression every time Lyla made a gesture and moved the phallic instrument.

"Can you put that down while we talk?"

"You are such a prude, Chinadoll," Lyla laughed, waving it playfully in Denise's face. "You act like you weren't caught with your panties down, bangin' your husband in an alley at my party last week!"

"That's different -"

"You're right. What you did was way worse - I've had my share of action in that back alley back in the day and it smells like piss. Always has," Lyla smirked. "Next thing you're gonna try to tell me is that you're knocked up and it was some kind of immaculate conception -"

"Can you... not say that right now?" Denise interrupted, raising her eyebrows. Lyla paused, her eyes widening slightly as she mirrored the expression and took her slightly aside. "It's nothing. I'm just late," Denise said. The worry on her face was evident, and Lyla fully understood. It wasn't that Denise didn't want kids - it was just that she and Juice had only started having sex again in the past week, which meant that if she was pregnant now, it meant that she had been pregnant when she was attacked. It meant she had been pregnant while she was on pain pills.

"Shit. Does Juice know?"

"I don't even know," Denise said, shaking her head. "I'm - I just - fuck, Ly," she said in frustration. "I just don't want to find out that I'm a fuck up of a mom already before I even -"

"You're not a fuck up, you got attacked on the side of the road!" Lyla said in a hushed voice. "It's a miracle that you're even able to look out for yourself right now without falling to pieces, let alone looking out for a - you know - a little human in you!"

At Lyla's particular choice of phrasing, Denise let out a small snort of laughter, which signified a change in mood, but also called for a change in subject which Lyla immediately ran with. "Anyway, I for one am proud of you - I was beginning to worry you weren't gettin' any dick, and now here you are!"

"I never said I wasn't gettin' any dick!" Denise laughed loudly - it was strangely freeing, being able to talk so openly and uncensored, considering the environment and knowing no one would mind. "The dick I'm getting just isn't plastic and neon-colored like the one you're holding -"

"Exactly - the dick you're getting is much messier."

"Oh, suck it -"

"Well, I can't suck this one, we need it for a scene."

The two women laughed - these exchanges had become somewhat normal for them, and Denise found that being around Lyla was so much less irritating than surrounding herself with sweetbutts, no matter how much they enjoyed attempting to get on her good side by stroking her ego.

"I'm just saying," Lyla shrugged, giving the dildo in her hand another wave for good measure. "I have a sixth sense about these things - you're not as vanilla as you try to be. You little _alley cat_."

Fair enough, Denise shrugged.

Thankfully, hers and Juice's sex life had recovered in the past week, and had recovered with a vengeance at that. Juice Ortiz had no complaints that he felt like he was going from TM to church to runs, then straight to bed and never to sleep - though he jokingly pointed out that they should cut down to one round a night, since he was starting to feel a little dehydrated.

The brief rekindling of a honeymoon period, however, seemed to dwindle when Denise's frustration returned. Juice had just gotten out of chapel and returned home with Jax following behind him - Denise was already inside with Abel and Thomas, having picked them up from school and daycare. Today in particular, she was wielding something new: a Nikon camera she had picked up for herself as a birthday present.

Today, Abel had set up his toys and set them up in a scene, which he proudly pointed out to Jax. "Aunt Deedee says she's gonna take pictures and we're gonna make a comic book I can bring to school," he said, puffing himself up proudly. Jax chuckled as he walked over, ruffling his son's hair before glancing over at Juice and nodding towards Denise. She rolled her eyes at the realization that this meant Juice would likely have something to tell her.

"How about you two go for a little drive? Take the car," Jax suggested. "I think I could use a little playdate with my two little men here."

"Yeah, okay," Denise said with a forced smile. Jax didn't make suggestions without reason, she knew that much about him even from the short weeks she had known him. Every action had a purpose, an intended objective. She had also learned, however, that sometimes the most painless course of action was to go along with it. "That sounds good. Let's go."

So, Denise got into the car, grousing at the fact that Juice hopped into the driver's side so she was forced into the passenger seat - a fitting metaphor for her life lately. They started down the road at a leisurely pace, but for whatever reason, Denise found that it felt like the car was moving a little too fast, and she was feeling a little bit queasy.

"Jax told me to talk to you," Juice began, focused on the road ahead instead of on Denise.

"I figured that much," she said, looking out the window and crossing her arms over her abdomen. "What about?"

"Jax wants to make an offer to Alvarez, and to the Irish," Juice began, his voice already sounding nervous and unsteady as the words tumbled out at an almost uncontrollable speed, like they were colliding and falling apart on his lips. "You know, to keep them onboard with us instead of jumping ship and going through with any deals with... with the Triads and with Marks."

"The Irish?" Denise asked, fishing around in her memory, through the many explanations Juice had provided her about their very messy relationships with the syndicates of the surrounding area. "I thought you guys were done doing business with them? Wasn't that the point of -"

"We're not trying to get back into business, just -"

"Buying their friendship?"

"Basically."

"And?"

"And the guys liked the idea. Nice, no blood, brains before bullets," Juice recited matter-of-factly, hoping that easing Denise into the announcement would make this easier. "But in order to do that, Jax needs... well, he needs help from you."

"Fucking shit, Juice!"

Denise's sudden outburst caused him to flinch and jolt the steering wheel slightly, though he was able to recover fast before veering off of the road, and once he glanced over at Denise, he immediately regretted it. Her face had hardened into a scowl that he hated being on the receiving end of. It was so unlike the Denise he had come to know and love, and yet unsurprising because he knew he deserved it. Juice, in fact, didn't know how to stop deserving it.

"So you guys just had a fucking vote on how you want to spend my money," Denise said in a forced sing-song voice, faking a laugh. "And when the fuck do I get to have say in this?"

"I don't know -"

"You don't know?" Denise said shrilly. "Did you vote for it, Juice? Did you not even hesitate for one second about sitting there and voting on how your little club can make the most use out of your wife? I can't -"

But before she could finish her statement, she felt her stomach lurch - she clapped one hand over her mouth and raised the other to slap against the glass of the closed window. Juice quickly pulled over, just in time for Denise to lean her head out the window and proceed to lose her lunch, right there on the side of the road. Juice reached into the back and retrieved the roll of paper towels that Denise always kept in the car for cleaning purposes and ripped off a few sheets, handing them to her hesitantly.

"Baby," he said carefully, the gears in his head beginning to turn when he started putting the pieces together. She was cranky (though she admittedly had plenty of reasons to be). She was feeling ill. They were a few weeks out from their honeymoon. "Are - are you -"

"I'm late," Denise said miserably, not looking back at Juice. His eyes widened, and she didn't need to explain any more than that - something she was thankful for, because the less she had to open her mouth to speak, the better. "I'm… I think I might be…"

"Fuck. Fuck..." he muttered before immediately clapping a hand over his own mouth. "I mean... fudge! Oh god, I have to watch my fu- fudging language -"

"If it's in there, it doesn't have ears yet," Denise said weakly, her voice reduced to a slight groan. "You can probably curse all you want for about another month If I'm really... you know..."

"Knocked up."

"Very tactful," Denise said, rolling her eyes. Juice, however, had unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to plant a kiss on his wife's temple.

"Forget about the run tomorrow," he said resolutely. "I'm staying with you, alright? Bringing you to the doctor. We were supposed to be heading to Lodi but - well, shit. Little Mushu or Chun Li has to come first -"

"I already told you!" Denise said shrilly, turning back to face her husband. "I'm not naming our kids -"

But when she met his gaze again, she found that he was smiling one of those smiles that simply made everything melt away - one of those smiles that she had fallen so hard for. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead again, and he sighed gently as though reading her mind.

"If it's in there, we'll make sure it's okay," he said. "And - and I'll stop calling it an 'it' as soon as I can, because our baby's not gonna come out looking like some killer Stephen King clown -"

"No, our baby's gonna come out looking like a little potato martian, because that's what babies look like when they come out - and that's completely fine," Denise smirked. Seeing her finally in a decent mood again, Juice let out another sigh of relief. Club business was just going to have to wait.

When they returned home, Juice was unable to hold in the news and immediately let Jax in on their suspicion that Denise had a bun in the oven. The blond-haired man's expression was mostly neutral, though he reached out and gave Juice a hybrid high-five and one-armed hug before reaching over and slinging an arm around Denise's shoulders, giving her a one-armed hug as well.

"Congratulations, Deedee," he said, clapping his hand on her shoulder and giving her a small squeeze. "You're gonna be an amazing mom. You've had a little bit of practice with my boys so you're welcome," he said with a mild smirk. Denise laughed slightly, shaking her head.

"We're not sure, yet - but I'll accept your congratulations in advance anyway," she smirked.

"What are you gonna call it?" Abel asked, his eyebrows leaping high onto his forehead. "Can I pick?"

"Sorry, buddy - I already promised Aunt Deedee that she gets to," Juice chuckled. Denise, however, walked over and crouched in front of Abel with a grin.

"Tell you what," she said. "If the little Peanut's really in there, then I'll let you help me pick something out once I find out if it's a girl or a boy."

"If it's a boy, I think his name should be Gremlin."

"Gremlin," Denise said with an amused smile. "We'll - we'll put that one on the list, alright, buddy?"

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_For those of you who have already watched last night's episode ("Suits of Woe"), I was admittedly a blubbering mess - and for those of you who haven't, I won't spoil the reasons why. But that's why this chapter was refreshing for me to update and write, because it was somewhat of a break from the intensity of the show. Though really, since we have two weeks until the next episode, we have a break anyway._

_Chapter 37 will actually be the second to last chapter in this installment - and the first chapter of the sequel will come out with Chapter 38. That being said, the next couple of chapters are gonna sting a little bit, because things need to fall apart in order to come back together. Juice and Denise came together super fast, and fell for each other super fast, so of course I had throw some trials back their way._

_Next chapter, you're also going to see Althea Jarry back stirring the pot, so stay tuned and see where that goes as well._

_I'm crossing my fingers that the next installment will be ready to go by Friday or Saturday, so please send your collective positive vibes that work goes easy on me and leaves me a little bit on energy to get it done! As always, thank you to all my wonderful readers and reviewers! Cheers!_


	37. Chapter 37

"Althea, you realize that our time is very, very valuable, don't you?"

Lieutenant Althea Jarry inwardly loathed how everyone else in the precinct was appropriately referred to with the rank they'd rightfully earned - except for her. Because she had a vagina, she was Althea - and the newly sworn-in mayor, Deacon Bollinger, who had recently taken Hale's place as the supposed _legal_ figurehead of Charming, made sure to remind her of this at every possible opportunity.

"You realize that if you succeed at this, it could make your career?" Bollinger said, leaning across his desk and leering at the woman. Bollinger, upon coming into office, learned very quickly from hearsay that Althea Jarry was screwing one of the good ol' boys of SAMCRO. While Hale, his predecessor, had started to become complacent with SAMCRO because he was running out of other avenues, Bollinger wasn't nearly as willing to cooperate, especially due to one minor detail - he had, just before the election, been caught sleeping with a gaggle of Triad-owned prostitutes in a new establishment opened in Lodi, owned by August Marks. Marks, as it turned out, was happy to have a bargaining chip to keep the new mayor of the town of Charming under his thumb - this was, in fact, one of his least messy methods of exerting control, and he seemed pleased to have a method of having a finger on the pulse of Charming with only very minimal clean-up.

So, Mayor Bollinger, in turn, had to use whatever tools he had at his disposal to keep August Marks appeased - among which was the ever ambitious and none-too-bad-looking Althea Jarry.

"I understand, sir, but -"

"I'm not asking you to murder anyone," Bollinger said with a derisive laugh, dismissing whatever protest Jarry was about to provide. "All I'm asking is that you use the little spell you have over that stinking Scotsman to stir up a little... dissent. See if we can't get SAMCRO out of the way of… progress."

"SAMCRO has always worked with us in whatever capacity -"

"In whatever capacity _they _see fit," Bollinger interrupted. "And I intend to stop that. Wouldn't it be nice to storm into that little clubhouse of theirs and tell them that there's a new Sheriff in town?" he smirked. "Prove that you're a good investment, Althea, and we can bring back the Charming PD with you at the helm."

Bollinger could tell that this, more than anything else, set off the interest in Althea Jarry's mind. She wanted so badly to be one of the boys, to be regarded with respect - so badly that she would tear through anyone she needed to in order to get it.

"Think on it, Althea," Bollinger said calmly, waving his hand to signal that she was dismissed from his office. "If you succeed, the one who benefits the most is you."

With a curt nod, Jarry rose from her chair and left. This was possibly the only chance she had left - if she couldn't deliver for Bollinger, she'd lose every ounce of pull she'd managed to earn in Charming. What choice did she have? If Bollinger wanted SAMCRO on a platter, then it was her job to deliver them with all the fixings.

And Filip Telford was her best shot.

* * *

><p>"Aunt Deedee," Abel whined, dragging out his small rolling suitcase from the guest bedroom in the Ortiz house. "I like staying at your house. I've always got someone to play with - do we have to go back?"<p>

"Your house is all fixed up now, sweetie," Denise said, crouching down and giving the boy a one-armed hug. "It doesn't mean you can't come over here anymore, it just means instead of being stuck in that room, you get your whole house again!"

"I don't want my whole house," Abel pouted, his face pinching in annoyance. "Do I have to?"

"It'll be fine, bud," Denise laughed, leaning over and planting a kiss on the little boy's temple. Juice was sitting on the couch, strapping Abel into his carrier so they could load into the car and bring the boys back to their own home, which had finally gotten through the lengthy repair process after the fire and had been cleared to live in again. Juice, however, had been strangely quiet since chapel that morning, and Denise hadn't felt compelled to ask why. Granted, she was already annoyed that chapel had gotten in the way of Juice coming to her doctor's appointment, which had only contributed to her frustration.

At this point, Denise was a full two and a half months pregnant, and after a good while of observation, the doctors had finally expressed confidence that the baby was healthy and whole.

She had been frequenting the doctor's office in the recent weeks, so she supposed she couldn't necessarily fault him for missing just one when he'd been so diligently present for the others. The past few weeks had also been comprised of a lot of murky waters as far as Juice and Denise being _okay_ - some days they were, and some days they weren't. For the most part, however, Denise was content worrying about the baby and asking no questions about club business.

A knock came on the door, and Denise rose to answer it, only to have Juice quickly and wordlessly get to his feet, hurrying to the door. He threw open the door and was immediately met by a sour-faced Jax Teller.

"I thought we were droppin' your boys off at your place -"

"Yeah," Jax answered shortly. "I came to talk to your wife."

"Dee can't come out right now."

"Juice, what's going on?" Denise asked, straightening up and walking towards the front door, looking back and forth between Jax and her husband, an expression of confusion crossing her face. "Is there something I should -"

"Can we talk? Go for a drive or something?" Jax asked.

"I told you -"

"Yeah - yeah, okay," Denise interrupted, talking over Juice in annoyance that he was trying to speak for her. "Juice, maybe you could take the boys home? And I'll meet you back here?"

"That'd be good," Jax said in a tight voice, crossing his arms over himself. "Bobby's over there doing some clean-up, the contractors left a little bit of a mess, but you can just drop 'em off."

Juice's jaw tightened visibly, but he rolled his shoulders and shrugged. "Alright." He leaned over and brushed his lips across Denise's temple before looking over at Jax, his gaze steely and filled with warning. "Don't stress her out. Her condition and all -"

"Considering what the little Peanut's already been through, I don't think anything Jax has to say is gonna be that groundbreaking," Denise said with a nervous laugh, elevating herself onto her toes slightly and kissing Juice on the cheek. "I'll be fine, babe. I'll see you in a while, just get the boys home safe."

Denise and Jax headed out to her car and drove out to the parking lot of the park nearby, not saying a word until Denise brought the car to a halt and unbuckled her seatbelt, turning to face Jax.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" she asked, arching an eyebrow gracefully. "Because my husband's been acting weird since this morning, and he acts like you're gonna throw me in a stock pot and serve me up with some fava beans and a nice chianti if I'm alone with you."

"Fucking Chibs wants to start his own charter," Jax spat out suddenly, his face contorting in frustration. "Says in the by-laws it's allowed - a clean break. Both charters have a window to recruit new members -"

"What?" Denise asked with a frown. "But - how -"

"You need to talk Juice out of going with Chibs," Jax said, slapping his palm on the dashboard and leaning forward. "That bitch Jarry has Chibs' dick on a string and she's playing him like a puppet. Ratboy and Bobby are solid SAMCRO, Happy's on the fence and refused to decide, says if we make him, he might jump ship back to Tacoma. Chibs got Quinn and Tig jumping ship, and everyone knows Juice is loyal to him -"

"This isn't my business, I'm just an ol' lady, remember?" Denise asked, feeling incredibly squeamish at the suggestion that she somehow get involved in club business as though it was her decision to make. "I'm not in the club, Jax, and I'm not gonna -"

"Is it because Chibs wants to make your husband VP of the new charter? Chibs knows how bad Juice has been itchin' to prove himself, and he's milkin' it." Jax spat. "They're recruiting out of the South and East Bay - calling themselves SAMBAY -"

"What?" Denise interrupted, her voice suddenly shrill and choked - she felt her heartrate suddenly quicken, and her breaths became more shallow at the sudden revelation. But the South and East Bay was Marks and Triad territory. Why would they make it their center of operations? "VP? Jax, Juice never told me -"

"I can't lose my guys, Dee," Jax said, a desperate, furious gleam in his eye as he leaned over towards her and continued talking. "Not with things being what they are -"

"Why is Chibs doing it?"

"Saying that I'm not fit to lead, that SAMCRO is a sinking ship -"

"That's ridiculous. This has to be - a misunderstanding," Denise said, holding up her hand and shaking her head in attempt to make heads or tails of what Jax was trying to tell her. "He's… well, he's your guy, even more than he is Juice's. Chibs would never -"

"He's balls-deep in police pussy, I don't know what the fuck he's playing at," Jax insisted. "But you can get through to Juice - Deedee, please."

"Jax, I can't -"

"Is that a life you're prepared to live, Deedee? Being the VP's old lady?" Jax insisted. "Is that a life you're prepared to bring a kid into? Because…"

Jax's voice trailed off, and he clenched his jaw slightly, prompting Denise to frown in response, nearly reaching out and touching his shoulder before he forced himself to continue.

"Because you already know - being an ol' lady is one thing," he said, his voice growing grave as he forced himself to look Denise in the eye. There was such frankness in his voice that she found it almost unsettling. "But _this_ is going to drag you down. It'll drag you and your baby down just like it did Tara because Juice is fuckin' up just like I did. He isn't puttin' your family first - and I can't blame him. I can't. But I know where this road goes because I've taken it, Dee."

A chill coursed its way up Denise's spine at the fact that Jax Teller, of all people was warning her not to become too deeply entrenched in the MC life. _Jax Teller_. The weight and burden of fear, which she had for so long willed herself not to feel, finally began to settle on her shoulders, like a crow landing and digging in its talons.

"I made you a promise that if you helped me fix this, you're free," Jax pressed on. "You can take Juice and the baby and get the hell out of Charming. I swear to you, that's still on the table if you get Juice to stay solid SAMCRO. But if Juice goes SAMBAY - if he gets that VP patch - you can bet your ass he's never gonna just get up and walk away."

Denise fell silent, placing a hand on her chest over her heart and looking away from Jax. She knew that he was right - she knew that Juice's loyalties worked that way, no matter how much he loved her. She couldn't deal with this - she couldn't deal with someone springing this on her. She shook her head and looked back at the SAMCRO president.

"This - this has to be some kind of a misunderstanding," she insisted with a weak, forced laugh. "Juice would've said something to me right away -"

"No, he wouldn't," Jax pressed on. "Because he knows you won't stand for that shit. If you told him not to -"

"I don't know, Jax," Denise said weakly. "I'll - I'll talk to him, okay?"

"If they break off, word's gonna get out that SAMCRO's going to shit. We're not gonna get new members, even if we prospect every kid in Charming whose balls have dropped."

"I can't promise you anything, Jax," Denise said. "I just said I'd talk to him - but I'm not going to just lay down and let this SAMBAY bullshit happen. Not for Jarry."

"You got beef with the cop?"

"No beef," Denise said, shaking her head slowly. "Just a very bad feeling."

* * *

><p>"Hey, babe - are you -"<p>

"VP?"

Juice had been hoping to meet his wife at the door when she got home from her talk with Jax and appease whatever anger she'd come home with - both for the baby's sake and his own. Her approach, however, was direct and without hesitation. Juice hung his head in shame, realizing that there was no hiding the offer that Chibs had put on the table. He didn't _want_ to face her - he thought perhaps he could avoid it. But she wasted no time, and Juice realized quickly that he knew her too well to expect her to.

"I haven't accepted yet, baby -"

"Yet?" Denise said shrilly. "Chibs wants to make you VP of SAMBAY and I have to hear it from Jax? And - and you were actually considering saying yes? At what point was I gonna have any say in this? At what point were you going to let me have a say in what happens to me, and to _our_ baby?"

Denise's voice had grown higher and higher in pitch, and she inhaled sharply, beginning to pace a few steps back and forth in disbelief.

"Babe, Jax is just using us," Juice insisted, raising his hands and attempting to calm his wife down before anything bad happened. "At least Chibs'll look out for us. This is our out -"

"This is not an out!" Denise cried, throwing her arms out in frustration. "Why don't you just fess up and say that you want that VP patch that bad -"

"Chibs is gonna be on our side, he's not gonna use you, he's not going to touch the money!" Juice retorted, finding his voice elevating in volume to match Denise's. "Isn't this what you wanted? If I stay in SAMCRO, Jax is gonna keep using you -"

"Because you trust the creepy psycho ass cop that Chibs is fucking any more?" Denise asked, running her hands through her hair. "You really think she has nothing to do with this? You don't see the way Sheriff Wonder Bread looks at me like a vulture -"

"Chibs would never let pussy get to his head like that -"

"Oh, right," Denise snorted derisively. "Chibs would never this, Chibs would never that - did you think that Chibs would ever tell you to put a gun to your head and blow your own brains out? Because he fucking did, Juice! Every word Jax said against you, every death sentence, every punishment Jax has ever put on your head, he's gone along with. I know you worship the ground he walks on but if we can't trust Jax, I don't think we should be trusting Saint-fucking-Filip Telford either -"

"Shut up!" Juice snapped suddenly, covering his ears and clenching his eyes shut. "Denise, just shut up! You wanna stay with Jax? Are you fuckin' kidding me? You and me gotta be on the same fuckin' page on this! You're my ol' lady and - and -"

"And what, Juice?" Denise asked, her eyes suddenly narrowed in fierce, intense anger, so caustic that when Juice actually opened his eyes to look at her, he would've sworn her gaze was burning right through him. "I should be a good ol' lady and put up or shut up? Is that it? You didn't feel like we needed to be on the same page when you ran the fuck away after Jax had me murder someone," Denise began, and Juice immediately felt himself shrink in shame, even if he didn't want to admit it. "You didn't give a fuck then, did you?"

"Baby - baby, I'm sorry -"

"I didn't sign on for this, Juice," she said, her voice growing choked. Juice felt a sudden stab of guilt when he saw that she was just barely restraining tears from falling. He realized now how valiantly she had been trying to forgive him these past weeks - for leaving her, for doubting her. "I didn't sign on to be a nice, obedient old lady. I didn't ask for this and I'm not bringing a baby into this world just to be a VP's kid. No. I don't want anything to do with SAMBAY, and I don't want my baby to either. So that leaves you."

Juice backed away a few steps, leaning back against the counter and gripping it, realizing that his legs were shaking underneath him. Denise, in turn, moved over to the sofa and sat down, turning away from Juice and burying her head in her hands.

"I need you to decide, right now," Denise said, her voice muffled into her hands. "I am giving you five fucking seconds to choose. That SAMBAY VP patch - Chibs or me."

Hidden in her voice, unspoken, was a piteous plea. _Choose me. For once, dammit, please choose me._

"Baby -"

"Five."

"Baby, this isn't fair, you know that Chibs and I -"

"Four."

"Denise, I can't just fucking choose -"

Denise let out a small sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob before getting back onto her feet and turning to face Juice - her husband - and revealing that she had finally done it. She had finally allowed herself to just cry - because for the first time, ever since she had first met Juice by that Stockton bus stop, she felt truly alone.

"You just did."

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_Please don't hurt me! There's still one more chapter and entire sequel. The final installment and first chapter of 'Lay Me Down' will hopefully be posted tomorrow. Have faith and stay tuned. Cheers!_


	38. Chapter 38

Juice looked down at the patch on his new kutte - vice president. He'd been wearing it for exactly one week now, but it was still a strange, surreal sort of emptiness that came with it - an emptiness that he was beginning to feel that he deserved.

Perhaps the patch wasn't the root of it. Perhaps it was the fact that exactly one week ago, he had woken up to find all of Denise's things gone, and a note taped on the mirror saying not to look for her. Word around Charming was that Jax knew how to reach her - that Abel still called Denise every day when he got out of school, that Wendy had Denise's number in case, on the rare occasion that Jax entrusted her with the boys, she needed someone to talk Abel out of being a little terror.

Juice was, at first, sorely tempted to run to Jax and beg for a way to call Denise, but even if Denise had wanted to speak with him, he knew that Jax would never willingly give him even a crumb of information after what he'd done. Jax had given him chance after chance - Denise had given herself up as a sacrifice to _buy_ those chances. Juice knew he was the one who threw them away.

Chibs had been reluctant to leave Juice alone in the days immediately following Dee's sudden departure, especially when Juice stated that he had no intentions of following her. She made up her mind, and she had every right to want to get out, he said sullenly. He wasn't going to chase her, to look for her, to try and trap her back in Charming. Chibs immediately suspected that Juice was veering into old territory, into the desperate mindset where he would do anything to end his own pain - but now, he seemed stronger than that. He seemed more willing to live, and Chibs realized with guilt that even for that, he had Denise to thank.

Since then, the members of SAMBAY has taken up having meetings in the back room of a pub called the Dirty Head in Mountain House, a smaller town in the East Bay, where they had already gotten a handful of hangarounds looking to prospect. They'd taken a few croweaters with them, but Juice now refused to come anywhere near them. He would regard every smile they flashed at him with disgust and simply get more drunk.

But, Juice made sure, never drunk enough that he would lose his discretion and end up balls deep in a croweater. He flat-out refused, because he didn't give a fuck if Denise had gone across town, or across the galaxy, because either way, she was his wife. He didn't take any of them to bed, imagining his wife's face or saying her name in the heat of passion - he didn't want to pretend.

"I deserve this," Juice said, shaking his head. He said it to himself often, in resignation. He accepted his fate, and decided that perhaps he was simply too weak to keep a woman like Denise, or to be a father to his baby.

"She'll come around," Chibs insisted, looking across the table at his new vice president. "Just give her time. The shit with Jax and the Triads'll come to a head. She'll be away - safe. It'll fall apart. And she'll see sense, Juicy boy. She'll see what we did was for the best."

But Juice would never let on that for the first time, he was truly beginning to doubt the man he had always idolized since he first set foot in Charming as Denise's last words of warning to him about Chibs rang and echoed in his head, every time he was alone. He was beginning to think that this time, perhaps Chibs had led him astray.

* * *

><p>"It's okay, baby - come on, lemme get you a glass of water."<p>

Denise sat, curled up on the sofa of the cabin in Lovelock while Gemma sat next to her, pushing the glass of water in her direction. She had been inconsolable all week, but refused to call anyone back in Charming, let alone her husband and the father of her child. There had been a few brief moments of lucidity where she wasn't crying that she managed to explain to Gemma why she had finally decided to leave.

She didn't hate Juice - she loved him. Gemma had concede a small, sad smile for the girl, because that much was undeniable. But Denise had explained that if she had stayed around him, around SAMBAY and everything that came with it, she would have been hurt. She would have been angry. Denise couldn't bear the thought of bringing their baby into the world with that kind of hurt - she owed her baby that much.

Gemma, of course, was quick to take on the role of mothering - because as horrid as she may have been, mothering was the only thing she knew. And for Denise to be put in the position she was in because she was staying loyal to Jax, Gemma immediately felt it was her job to make sure no harm came to her. Jax was losing people that were loyal to him, and even if he hated her he was her son - and Denise was, if nothing else, one of a precious few who could be counted on for Gemma's boys.

"You did good, Dee. Stop beating yourself up like this. Think about the baby," Gemma insisted, reaching out and rubbing her hand consolingly over Denise's back - the younger woman still shook with sobs, like Gemma had never seen her do before. Denise _needed_ someone to be there for her, and Gemma needed to be needed. "Deedee, come on. Snap out of it - it's gonna be alright."

"I told him - I told him, choose. Me or Chibs," Denise sobbed, repeating this same thing for what must have been the thousandth time since she arrived alone at the cabin, stumbling through the door in tears. "After everything - I - I thought he would choose me. I thought - why -"

"Shh," Gemma hushed, squeezing the younger woman around the shoulders. "I don't know, baby. I don't know. But you're gonna be safe here with me, alright? No one's gonna find you. No one's gonna hurt you. You've got me, babydoll. Mama's here."

* * *

><p>Althea Jarry traced her fingertip lazily over Chibs' bare chest as they lay in bed - once SAMBAY became official, she practically had moved in with him. He shrugged wordlessly, reaching over into the drawer of his bedside table and pulling out a cigarette and lighter.<p>

"Jackie's a dead man," Chibs said as he lit the cigarette. "I've signed SAMCRO's death sentence because of this."

Chibs' voice was low and husky, and the conflict on his face was evident - but it was more than clear that the bridges were already burned. He took a drag from his cigarette and breathed it away from his woman's face.

Jarry couldn't have been convinced that what she was doing was wrong - in her mind, it benefited everyone that she felt was of consequence. She had grown fond of Chibs, of course, and would never own up to simply _using_ him. This was, she decided, for his own good as well. An outlaw was an outlaw and would always be an outlaw, but at least thanks to her, Chibs was able to do so on his own terms, and not those of Jax Teller. Jarry could care less if Jax got burned for this, if they were being completely honest. Chibs benefited, she benefited. In her mind, she had _saved_ them. She reached over, placing her hand gently on his cheek and coaxing him into facing her, searching in his eyes to see some sort of gratitude for what she'd done - she always did this, and to date, she still hadn't _seen_ such gratitude. But she would. She knew it would come eventually.

"It had to be done, Filip," she said. "You did the right thing."

* * *

><p><strong>- THE END -<strong>

* * *

><p><em>AN's_

_And with that short installment, this is where we leave our SAMCRO family, for this story anyway. If I can entice you to check out the sequel, it will be posted within an hour of this update, titled 'Lay Me Down'. The sequel takes place after a slight time jump. So, head on over to the sequel and see where fate takes our heroes and our not-quite-heroes. In the meantime, I want to say thank you to those of you who reviewed this story and followed it as it was posted. I hope to see all of you and hear what you think as we start a new adventure! So, a special shoutout to the reviewers who have seen the story through since its humble beginnings._

_wabi-sabi1090_

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_Guest/Anon_

_You guys are all amazing, and I don't know what I would've done without you! I started this story during a very hectic time, and your reviews were such a huge motivator for me._

_So, goodbye for now. Head on over and start 'Lay Me Down'! Cheers!_


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